Judith Strikes!
by Shallow15
Summary: Volume 1 of The Judith Saga. A psychotic parallel universe version of Daria goes on a murderous scavenger hunt from hell through the Daria Multiverse. But what does she want? A multiple author shared world project.
1. Opening Ceremony

**NOTE:** "Judith Strikes!" is a shared world project written by several "Daria" fanfic authors. Individual authors are credited in each chapter. It may also be helpful to read my short fics "Misnomer" and "Research" before embarking on this one. Enjoy! - Erin M. (Shallow 15)

JUDITH STRIKES!:  
OPENING GAMBIT

A "Daria" fanfic by Erin Mills  
"Daria" ©2010 MTV Networks/Viacom International

**Somewhere in the Multiverse...**

It was a dead world, and had been for some time. Civilization had its time and had moved on, quietly and with little fanfare. There were still some traces though. A few buildings still stood relatively undamaged and were still structurally sound.

One of these was a large, red brick, two story house on a quiet suburban street. While a majority of the windows were shattered and blown out, the rest of the house was still intact. The lawn was yellowed and dead. If anyone was still around to look in the garage, they would have found an old red SUV sitting in there, also long dead form disuse.

The interior of the house wasn't much better. The elements had taken over in the years since the end and the furniture was rotted and unusable in most of the house. In the living room were the remains of six human skeletons, all jumbled together in a pile in the center of the room. They, too, hadn't been disturbed in years.

The only incongruities to the disarray and neglect in the house was in one of the upstairs bedrooms and the bathroom down the hall from it. The bedroom was kept clean and orderly, and had padding on the walls of half the room. On the wall with the door, four bookshelves held a variety of books ranging from modern hardcovers, to ancient tomes, to electronic datapads. The desk in the center of the shelves held what was probably one of the most impressive pieces of personal computing ever devised.

There was no screen, just a large rectangular holographic projection hovering in the air over the desk, below it a wafer thin touchpad that had been configured to resemble a standard "qwerty" style keyboard. Under the desk were eight CPU "towers" wirelessly networked together and running a stolen and cracked operating system well in advance of the technological standard the world used to run on. The entire system was connected to a small capsule device about eight inches long that bore a striking resemblance to a Fabrege egg, except the faceted "gems" on its surface occasionally flashed and pulsed as power was created to run the system.

These were the only signs that the world may not have been as dead as it appeared. And with a flash of blue-white flame, the house was once again occupied.

She appeared in the center of the room. She was clad in a black matte catsuit, complete with impressive boots and leather gloves. A brown, multi-compartmented utility belt was slung loosely aroudn her hips. She wore a hooded, blood red cloak which brushed the floor as she moved. She looked around the room, nodded to herself, then pushed back the hood and shook her head.

A cascade of brown hair flowed down to her shoulders. Her face was lean, piercing brown eyes covered by a pair of large round glasses. Her expression was stern, giving an impression of barely controlled rage. She reached up and unhooked the clasp of the cloak at her neck, shrugging it off and tossing it on the bed.

The silver heart shaped locket hanging from a chain around her neck glittered briefly in the sunlight that came from between the drapes on the window. She touched the locket to keep it from swinging, then reached into one of the compartments of her belt and withdrew a USB flash drive. She knelt down next to the desk, located a tower that was compatible with the technology and slid the drive in.

She sat in the chair in front of the desk, pulled off her gloves, then reached up and slid her fingers across the holographic screen. Instantly, a layout similar to a Windows desktop appeared. She tapped the icon for the appropriate tower, then for the USB drive. Data began scrolling across the screen.

She read almost as quickly as the information was displayed, stopping and re-reading when she wanted to be sure she understood what she had read. It had taken her a long time to acquire this information, and if she was right, it would lead her to what she had been searching for.

The screen scrolled to the next section and she cursed. The text had turned into an unintelligible mass of gibberish. The file was corrupted. She cursed herself for not taking the time to check to make sure the copy had been successful before she had turned the abandoned DELPHI base into a radioactive hole in the ground.

"Fucking Foundation," she muttered, scrolling back up to the legible text. They were getting more aggressive lately. Something had to be up. Probably having a hissy over something those clueless morons at the Agency were doing or not doing or whatever. Either that, or they had a knot in their shorts about those sanctimonious Ringbearers. Those two groups always gave the Foundation a headache, and she was grateful for it. It kept the Guides busy trying to keep their existence a secret while she got on with business.

Except, with this file corrupted, business had come to a screeching halt. The DELPHI base had been one of their universe's main research centers in trans-reality travel, at least until they had made the mistake of subcontracting their computer systems to Aperture Science Laboratories. Boy, did they learn their mistake in a hurry.

She drummed her fingers on the desktop and looked at the file again. Maybe there was something usable in what had gotten copied. it was worth a look,otherwise she was going to have to backtrack and maybe hit another DELPHI base...hello, what was that?

_...substantial information acquired through alliance with entities known as the Agency and the Corps of Ringbearers. It is the opinion of this subcommittee that all Level 9 information be copied and uploaded for into Agency archives, and the Corps of Ringbearers database (code named "Well of Souls") for safekeeping, especially information as pertains to ongoing investigation into unexplained incidents of violence in the Lawndale area on multiple worlds. Additionally, further backups should be placed in DELPHI's own database, also code named "Well of Souls" on D-247 for insurance purposes should anything happen to this installation._

Three alternate DELPHI bases have been struck over the last year, and subsequently either destroyed or severely damaged. The reasons remain unknown, but this subcommittee strongly suspects some sort of planned attack. Additionally, Agency contacts indicate that one of their main research centers, code named "The Library", on world D-218 has been recently attacked and the Guardian of the Library murdered in cold blood. It should be noted that the Guardian was D-218's Daria Morgendorffer. The subcommittee does not believe this is a coincidence.

_While Level 9 information is classified as Class Ultraviolet Top Secret, the subcommittee feels that, since this DELPHI installation has information unique to the nature of artifacts and devices known to have trans-reality properties currently determined too valuable to share with other DELPHI installations in other realities (except, of course, the aforementioned installation on D-247), the best course of action to ensure that this information is kept away from whoever or whatever is attacking our people, is to place backups in the hands of these organizations, as they have other methods of protecting it than our more mundane security protocols, and trigger a virus within our own system should it become compromised to ensure that the list of Level 9 xnkwhsidhetkbngt dshusif 74473*^&%6cv dfvithbbb-fg=;;_

She leaned back in her chair, read the paragraphs again, and a sinister grin spread over her face. Obviously, this wasn't supposed to go any further than a few higher ups in the DELPHI hierarchy. And it proved that their own security protocols, while effective in keeping their own secrets, weren't as extensive as they had hoped.

Because they had just told her where to find a shopping list of some of the most powerful cross-universal items in the entire godforsaken multiverse.

She opened another window, looking at a database of her own. She frowned in concentration, then pulled an ancient book from the shelf next to the desk. She flipped through the pages. Finding the book amid the multiple versions of the Library had been a huge pain in the ass, but ultimately worth it.

The Tome of T'agobinskem'ace was possibly the most comprehensive guide to the multiverse ever written. Composed by three madmen in a universe far removed from the others, it had many theories on interdimensional travel and the various methods of doing so. It also contained many other theories. Terrible theories. Theories that if implemented with the right collection of items at the right time and place could unleash untold chaos and destruction.

Daria Judith Morgendorffer liked chaos. She liked destruction. And she especially liked the idea of thousands upon thousands of Green Jacketed Snot Nosed Bitches losing their lives and home worlds. Just like she had lost hers.

Ah-ha, here it was.

Even though the Tome was ancient, it held information that was eerily up to date. It was the method by which Judith had been able to keep her activities hidden from the various agencies that had appointed themselves the guardians of reality. The Tome held extensive notes on the Agency, the Ringbearers, DELPHI, and even the Foundation, the most secretive of the bunch.

The Tome didn't predict the future, it just had information that wasn't readily available to anyone who wasn't part of these organizations. Even with the Tome's guidance, Judith knew she had to proceed cautiously. She might know how they worked as organizations, but individual agents in those organizations were unpredictable. She suffered no illusions about the Tome. It was an edge, a resource, not an guarantee of victory.

_The Well of Souls is the common name of the central databases of both the Corps of Ringbearers and the organization known as DELPHI.. Access to the Wells can only be made in person either at the Ringmasters homeworld in universe D-476, or in the main DELPHI installation on planet Earth in __universe D-247 .  
_

"Bingo." Judith grinned, tapping the page. "Bracers and belt."

The staff of the DELPHI base on D-338 were incredibly paranoid, even by secret government project standards. So much so, they didn't even trust other versions of themselves from other realities. That they were willing to entrust not one but three other entities with the information proved how serious they were that it not be lost.

There was little in the Tome about how the Agency guarded their information, which was fine with Judith. The less she had to deal with them for the moment, the better. She had better luck with DELPHI and the Ringbearers.  
She read the information, then read it again. Both took their access seriously, taking advantage of whatever they could to alert themselves to any cross-dimensional invasion of their systems. And, of course, one of the first things they did was to attempt to seal off any escape by reality jumping.

Judith sneered. Well, that might work for the types of magic and tech they knew about, but as her setup here had proven, the locket had its own little tricks for dealing with those kind of obstacles.

The Ringbearers were going to be especially difficult, since lethal force seemed to be the standard response to any unauthorized visits to Nova Valdis. By the same token, DELPHI had a huge staff on base, heavily armed and with a small dormitory's worth of metahumans ready and able to take intruders down. And most of them were psionic in nature.  
Judith drummed her fingers on the desk, then opened up another file on the computer. She had been systematically cataloguing the abilities of the locket, and while she had no doubts she could get away if things went horribly wrong, there was no point in going at all if she couldn't get in. Hence, trying to see if there was anything the locket could help with in that department.

She scrolled down the list of abilties until she hit an entry marked "Temporal Disalignment." As she re-read the entry, she smiled. Even though the ability was one of the few that was almost impossible to keep up for a prolonged period of time, it should be sufficent to keep DELPHI off balance for long enough.

But that wasn't going to be enough. Especially since the Ringbearers probably had a few temporal tricks of their own. Judith doubted she could use that particular ability on the Ringmaster homeworld.

In short, she was going to need some help. Some particularly lackwitted, but ludicrously loyal help. Help that could charge in and cause a mess of havoc and chaos to keep the main security forces busy.

_And distract them long enough for me to get the lists. Oh, this'll be a whole MESS of fun._

Judith quickly put the Tome aside and brought up her database again of the various worlds she had visited in her travels.

_Distractions...distractions...I need something sufficiently menacing and powerful enough to keep the Ringbearers and DELPHI'S metahuman goons busy, but dumb enough to not realize that they're cannon fodder. Wait a second...where was that world?_

She clicked through a few more entries until she found what she was looking for: D-249, a distant cousin to D-247. The Green Jacketed Snot Nosed Bitch of that world also ran around as a damn superhero, but unlike D-247's Bitch, D-249's had no powers, instead running around with pain inflicting gadgets and calling herself "The Misery Chick." She, along with the Jane and Trent Lane of that universe had been driven out of Lawndale by a crazed, mad scientist version of Angela Li, relocating in the city of Century Station to train themselves to go take back their hometown. Fat chance.

What Judith was interested in was Li's primary goon squad: genetically engineered clones of Kevin Thompson, beefed up and programmed to single-mindedly pursue a goal. And as long as that goal involved a lot of mindless mayhem, they were perfect for Judith's needs. Besides, Li owed her one after she had helped her with that Trans-Temporal Oscillation Disinhibitor. It wasn't Judith's fault that when Li turned it on, it opened a portal to a massive dinosaur stampede. Well, maybe not ENTIRELY her fault.

Either way, Judith had saved the scientist's ass and Li owed her big time. Seemed like this would be the perfect opportunity to collect. After that, a quick trip to D-247, and from there...

Well, no sense in getting ahead of oneself.

Judith made a quick check of some information she had gotten thanks to a well timed Freedom of Information Act request she had made a few months previous, saved her work, replaced the Tome, and set the security on the computer. It wasn't really necessary, the Foundation had already done her the favor of isolating this world from the rest of the multiverse, but it didn't pay to tempt fate. She picked up the cloak from the bed and put it back on, then did the same with her gloves.  
Having done that, she turned and entered the closet. At the bottom of the closet was a square safe. She knelt down and typed in the combination on the electronic keypad. The lock beeped, a light went from red to green, and Judith opened the door.

Inside the safe were six exotic looking devices. Three were technological marvels, complete with digital readouts, buttons and flashing lights. The other three were ancient artifcats composed of gems, ornate carvings, and assorted mystical fetishes. One of these looked similar to the egg-shaped power source that ran her computer, except it was made of stone, with six blood red jewels surrounding it. They sparkled in the light, sending ruby colored shadows over the walls.  
Judith took the "egg" out of the safe, closed the door and stood up. She touched one of the jewels and slid it out of the slot it rested in. She smiled.

"This should do it. Can't wait to see their expressions." she said, placing the egg in one of the compartments of her belt.

She drew the hood of the cloak over her head, and grasped the locket around her neck. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Li's lab in what used to be D-249's Lawndale High. The locket began to glow with a blue white flame and a similar glow eminated from Judith's eyes. She loved this part. The feelings of power, of control, of being able to go anywhere and do anything. She imagined tit was what being God felt like.

She'd have to ask Him before she killed the bastard.

A flash of light and Judith was gone.

**The Well of Souls, DELPHI, World D-247**

"So let me get this straight," DELPHI psi-agent Kyle Watts said, stirring some creamer into his coffee. "You majored in _psychology_? At _Middleton_?"

"I know, I know," his fellow psi-agent, Heather Patterson replied, tucking an errant lock of her curly red hair behind her ear. "Not the best choice of school to study at. Not that I actually DID much studying."

"No, that's not what I meant. I thought it was required that everybody who works here in the Psi Corps had to have a background in communications from USAES or the HIVE."

Heather shrugged. "Wouldn't know about that. All I know is that my powers developed later than most. I was a sophomore in college when it happened. One second I'm droning on and on about 'Middleton's time honored tradition of tomfoolery,' the next, I've levitated an idiot frat boy and got guys in uniforms cornering me in my dorm room. They offered to send me to the HIVE, I said yes, and here we are."

"And you still studied psych?" Kyle asked, finishing his coffee and tossing the cup across the room towards the garbage. It was going to fall short by four feet, but Heather reached out with her mind, caught the cup and deposited it in the trash can.

"Show off," Kyle said. Heather made a face and smiled.

"Psych's been helpful here," she said. "the psychological effects of people being exposed to the existence of the multiverse are fascinating. Besides, given a lot of the stuff we could see in other realities, it makes sense to have somebody on staff who can deal with anyone who breaks down."

"Like that'll happen. None of us would be here if we didn't have our screws tightened down." Kyle got up from the booth and helped Heather up. The two left the canteen and began walking back towards their duty stations.

"True," Heather said, "but you never know what could happen. I mean, if you had told me five years ago, I'd be working for a secret government organization protecting one of the largest depositories of information anywhere, I would have said you were nuts, that something of this scale couldn't possibly exist. If psych's taught me anything, it's that nothing is ever as cut and dried as it seems."

Deep underneath the lowest sublevel of the DELPHI installation, hidden in an cranny carved into the bedrock decades before the first beam had been sunk for the base's foundation, a small red jewel flared to life and began glowing. The cranny was filled with the crimson light.

After a few moments, the light focused into a tight beam and began rapidly burning its way through the rock.

"So what's the HIVE like?" Kyle asked as he and Heather made their way back towards the communications room.

"Pretty nice," Heather replied. "It's in this little village outside Vienna. Huge mountains, grassy hills. Add Julie Andrews and you've got 'The Sound of Music.'"

"Sounds nice."

"It is. Great school too. Never thought I'd take to a military school, but it's pretty well balanced. Even functions as a mundane school."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they call it the sister school to Heidelberg. Very prestigious. They hide all the buildings where we do the fun stuff behind perception filters and spoofing screens. The regular military brats have no clue what's happening."

Kyle quirked an eyebrow. "Do I hear a bit of mischief in your voice, Agent Patterson?"

Heather gave him a devious grin. "Well, perhaps a certain neophyte psionic student got a LITTLE tanked on blackberry schnapps one night and levitated all the uniform pants of a snot nosed little Swiss Miss to the roof of the women's dorm."

Kyle let out a laugh. "Oh, you are SO telling me this story once we're off duty."

"Only if you tell me about the 'Legend of Captain ElectroPants.'"

"Who told you about that?"

The light burned through the stainless steel floor in the main entrance foyer of the DELPHI Well of Souls complex. As soon as it broke through it shot up to the ceiling and spread out into a huge crimson portal forty feet in diameter, completely covering the teleport portal that was the usual entrance to the facility.

No sooner had the portal formed, than a horde of musclebound silohuettes began running out of the portal and into the base. Five, then ten, then twenty and more and more.

Within thirty seconds, five hundred eight foot tall, six hundred pound clones of Kevin Thompson, clad in black leather versions of the Lawndale High football uniform had entered the facility.

And more continued to pour through the gate.

This was the point that all hell broke loose.

The alarm echoed throughout the base. Heather and Kyle looked up sharply then began running down the corridor. They were soon joined by additional DELPHI forces, fellow metahumans, and a platoon of SHARD robots.

As they rounded the corner, The entire group skidded to a halt. The connecting corridor was filled with Kevins. The entire horde of lunkhead quarterbacks turned and gave vapid grins.

"Opposing team! Cool!" said one in the front.

"And cheerleaders!" said another, eyeing the women in the group. "Really cool!"

"Oh hell." Heather muttered.

"Take 'em down!" Kyle yelled. He thrust out his fists, sending bolts of red lighting down the corridor towards the football players. three of them impacted, sending a couple of the goons flying into the walls.

The Kevins looked at their fallen comrades, frowned, then charged the DELPHI squad. Kyle leaped into the fray, throwing bolts of electricity anywhere he could strike an enemy. He was followed by several dozen more DELPHI forces.

Heather turned to find a Kevin charging towards her and leaped into the air. She frowned and projected a mental blast of psychic energy towards him. It connected and sent him flying back into a crowd of his lookalikes. Three of them fell on top of him, their bulk keeping him from moving.

Suprisingly, the trapped Kevin simply looked around, grinned, and said "Cool!"

Then he exploded.

Heather found herself being propelled down the corridor by the blast. Soggy wet chunks of quarterback splashed down around her, as well as fragments of SHARDs, and broken equipment.

She hit the floor hard and rolled to a stop. Soon afterwards, Kyle slid to a halt next to her. He sat up, shaking his head. He was singed in several places, and his uniform had holes in it.

"Well, that was unexpected." he said. "You all right?"

"Fine, just bumped up a little." Heather answered. "What the hell do they want?"

"I don't know. They don't exactly seem to be the brightest bunch of goons I've ever encountered."

"There's got to be somebody behind them," Heather said. "No way these guy would be dumb enough to break in here on their own."

At that point, a Kevin dashed by yelling "I'm open! I'm open!" He paused and struck a receiving pose. He was promptly crushed by a flying SHARD robot. Heather and Kyle looked at each other.

"Okay," Heather amended. "Maybe they are, but they're DEFINITELY not smart enough to have gotten in here in the first-"  
She cut herself off and blinked. A fire was burning through her brain. A twinge of something. A presence. Insane. Evil.  
And moving.

Heather got to her feet and began running back down the corridor, following her instincts.

"Where are you going?" Kyle called.

"These guys are the distraction! Whoever's behind it is going for the TEMPLE!"

Judith strode down the corridors of the DELPHI installation, dodging, ducking, and generally staying out of the way of the carnage unfolding in front of her. Around her neck, the locket glowed faintly. Using the Temporal Displacement ability, Judith was keeping herself a few seconds out of sync with the universe as a whole. Anyone who saw her wasn't seeing her, but where she had been a few seconds previous. It wasn't as good as invisibility, but with all the carnage, who really cared?

Around her, the carnage was unfolding nicely. The Kevins had been told that they were being watched by NFL scouts and that if they were tackled and immobilized the best thing they could do is activate their self destruct so that "they wouldn't be seen as losers." Additionally, they had been told that all the female staff were secretly in love with them. When a Kevin managed to trap one of the female agents, they dissolved into a viscous, sticky pile of bioplasmic goop that held their captives in place.

Judith didn't think too much about her strategy. She had to keep her focus or the Temporal Disalignment would turn into an unwanted time trip fairly quickly.

A metahuman slammed into the wall next to her. Judith stopped moving long enough for the three Kevins who were pursuing him to slam him into the wall again. Then she moved on, letting one of the Kevins explode behind her.

As she made her way down the maze of corridors, working her way lower and deeper into the base, she heard an ominous pronouncement.

"ATTENTION: SECURITY BREACH REACHING UNACCEPTABLE LEVELS. TERMINATION GRIDS WILL ACTIVATE IN TEN...NINE...EIGHT..."

"Well, that can't be good." Judith muttered to herself. She leaned up against a wall and focused harder, creating a greater Displacement. As she phased her self a full minute out of sync, every security measure in the base activated.  
Instantly, every person in the base not encoded and recognized by the DELPHI comutper system was targeted by every security procedure in place. Kevins found themselves cut down by high powered rail guns, obliterated by multi-phase disintegrators, sliced into ribbons by cunningly tripped nets of monofilament wire. and worst of all, found random parts of their anatomies telported a full meter away for here they should have beenlogically located.

This had an unexpected side effect, in that a majority of the Kevins' self destruct activated once life had ceased, injuring or outright killing several DELPHI operatives for each detonation.

Through all this, Judith calmly continued making her way to the center of the Well. Being phased out of sync effectively fooled the system into targeting a phantom which was no longer there. Within forty seconds, the Kevins had been eliminated and Judith had reached DELPHI's greatest secret.

Judith dropped the Disalignment back to a ten second gap, reached into the folds of her cloak and withdrew a wad of plastic explosive. She added a small detonator, took a few steps back, dropped the Disalignment long enough to detonate the explosive and walked through the disabled door into the chamber beyond, phasing back out of sync.

-  
"Somebody give me a status report!" Kyle barked into his communicator.

"Sectors 24 through 26 are being secured. Substantial damage in the lower levels, and we've still got that Starseed Grey with more of those goons are coming through!" came the response.

"Shit," Kyle cursed. "Any sign of Patterson?"

"She was heading for the core at last report, sir. Something about a potential Screaming Spiral. Back up is trying to catch up to-oh shit."

"'Oh shit?' What 'oh shit?'"

"The TEMPLE chamber has been breached!"

"Oh SHIT!"

Judith whistled in spite of herself as she entered the chamber of the DELPHI Temporal Equillibrium/Metrological Preservation and Logistics Engine. A full five stories tall, the TEMPLE was a technological marvel, covered with LEDs, readouts, and power cables. There were sixteen workstations surrounding the central tower, with an additional sixteen on the four catwalks above the ground level.

Judith strode up to one of the terminals and synced herself back into local time. She plac ed her fingers on the keyboard and blinked as a voice entered her mind.

_Welcome to the TEMPLE of DELPHI. Please state your request._

"Psionic supercomputer. Nice." Judith said. "I'm starting to actually respect these guys."

_Please state your request._

"It can't be that easy." Judith said to herself, then louder: "I'd like the list of Level 9 trans-reality devices and artifacts uploaded to this system from the DELPHI archives located in universe D-338."

_This information can only be accessed by DELPHI operatives with Class Ultraviolet security ratings. Please state your name._

Judith considered lying for a brief second, then changed her mind. "Judith."

_Operative not found. Initiating security lockdown._

Judith smirked. "Don't let me stop you."

There was a series of clunking sounds as each of the access doors leading to the TEMPLE began to shut down, power cut from them. Judith folded her arms and sighed, waiting for the show of force to stop.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"

Judith turned towards the entrance where she had come in. A redhead in a DELPHI uniform stood there, gun drawn. The security bulkhead slammed down behind her. Judith smiled. The redhead was cute.

Too bad she had to die.

"Get your hands up." Heather demanded. Judith grinned again and slowly put her hands in the air.

"No need to get hostile." Judith said, turning fully to face the DELPHI agent.

"You already did." Heather replied. "Drop the hood."

"No."

Heather blinked. "No?"

"No, don't feel like it."

"You don't have a choice! I'm the one with the gun pointed at your head! Drop. The. Hood."

"Well, if you insist."

Judith grabbed the sides of the hood and pulled it back off her head, revealing her face. Unseen, her second and third fingers gripped the tiny daggers concealed in the edges of the hood. On the other side of the room, Heather quirked an eyebrow.

"Why do you look familiar?" she asked. Judith shrugged.

"I just have one of those...FACES!" On the last word, Judith hurled the daggers acors sthe room and dove to the side. Before Heather had a chance to react the needle thin blades hit her fingers causing her to drop the gun. Heather cursed then smiled.

"You know, I don't really need the gun." She concentrated and Judith found herself rising off the floor. Judith struggled against the psychic grip she felt crushing her.

"Telekinetic. Cute." She gasped. Under her cloak, her right hand slipped into the transdimensional folds and gripped an item. Heather spotted the movement and focused on Judith's hand, forcing it out. Judith was gripping a small gold sphere.  
Heather flexed her mind and pulled the sphere out of Judith's hands and floated it towards her. It hovered in front of her face. Heather glanced up at Judith.

"Phantasm-style exploding gold sphere of death?" she asked.

Judith shook her head. "Nope. Anti-psionic nanovirus."

The sphere burst open and a gray cloud of dust burst out, clouding around Heather's face. She coughed loudly, involuntarily breathing in the nanobots that comprised the cloud. Instantly, she felt a fog cloud her brain and Judith fell to the floor, landing lightly in a kneeling position.

Heather fell to her knees, feeling the nanovirus go to work on her cerebellum. She felt her motor functions being overridden, but part of her mind was still her own. Her limbs felt heavy, useless, and she couldn't move.

Judith smiled and walked over to Heather. "Now then, let's see here. Name, rank, and security clearance, please."

"Patterson, Heather, Metahuman Operative, Project: Utau assigned to the Well of Souls, Security Clearance: Class Ultraviolet." The words came out involuntarily, and Heather's mind screamed in protest.

"Excellent. Pleasure to meet you. My name's Judith. Come over here, would you, Heather?"

Judith led the agent back to the terminal. "Now, Heather, would you be so kind as to ask the TEMPLE for the information I need?"

Heather thought she was having an out of body experience as her body stepped over to the terminal, requested the information, printed out a hard copy and handed it to Judith. She tried as best she could to glare at her assailant.

Judith smiled as she glanced over the information and placed it in a compartment of her belt. "Thank you, Heather. You've been very helpful. And because of that, I'm not going to kill you. The nanovirus should wear off in about three minutes, and no, it won't affect your powers.

"Oh, and don't worry about the Kevins. The portal will close automatically in about ten minutes. Of course, by that point this entire place will be crawling with them, but hey, I'm sure you've got enough toys here to clean up the mess. Normally, I'd be tempted to have them bring in an A-bomb or something to take this place out, but frankly, I can't be bothered."

Heather felt control of her mouth coming back to her. She forced her thoughts through clenched teeth. "You aren't getting out of here alive."

Judith smirked again. "Thank you, Madame Cliche. One thing you good guys never realize." She reached under the cloak and gripped the locket. The locket began glowing, followed closely by her eyes. Heather's eyes widened as the disturbing sight of blue-white flame reflecting off Judith's glasses.

"Bad guys don't follow the Rules." Judith finished. "Ciao!"

There was a flash of light and Judith was gone. A few moments later the security bulkhead opened, admitting Kyle and a squad of DELPHI security.

"Heather? You okay?" he asked. Heather shook her head.

"I'm hit with a nanovirus. I can't move anything but my head." she reported. "It's wearing off though. The perp's gone."  
"What did they get?"

"Some list that our counterparts in D-338 asked us to archive."

Kyle frowned. "Level 9 information?"

"Yeah. Is that bad?"

"I helped archive it. As our time traveling friend once said, 'imagine as bad as it could get and add a whole other suitcase full of bad.'"

"That's bad. Do I want to know how bad things are up top?"

Heather shook out her limbs as the last of the nanovirus was destroyed by her immune system. She began making her way out of the TEMPLE chamber, heading for the communications room. Kyle followed her, after ordering the squad to secure the chamber.

"There's still a mess of those goons coming through the portal." Kyle replied. "Fortunately, they're stupid enough that we can get them without having to reactivate the grid. No idea how they got past security in the first place, or how the hell we're gonna close the damn portal."

"She said it would close on its own in about ten minutes. They were just there to keep us busy." The two agents stepped out of the elevator into the shielded communications room. Heather ignored the agents on staff and went to a free workstation.

"She?"

"The perp." Heather explained. She picked up the phone. "This is Patterson. Get me the Director. Code Red."

"Who was she?" Kyle asked."Anyone we know?"

Heather shook her head. "No. She called herself Judith. But the weird thing was, I thought I recognized her. Convergent recognition, maybe?"

"What? That another version of you has met another version of her? Maybe. We'll check the files. She won't get away with it. No matter what reality she holes up in."

"I hope so. I don't even want to think about what she can do with that list. Hello? Director? Agent Patterson here. Yes, sir. We have a Doomsday Book. The TEMPLE's been compromised..

**The Well of Souls, Ringmaster Homeworld, World D-476**

_Well,_ Judith thought as she ducked behind one of the support pillars in the chamber of the Well of Souls, _Nice to see these guys take security a little more seriously than DELPHI._

Out in the main chamber, the Ringmasters' special force of Ringbearers, known as Warhammers, were systematically slaughtering the ongoing tide of Kevins. Quarterback after quarterback went on to that great end zone in the sky as the Warhammers used their powers to slice, filet, chisel, evicerate, and generally coat the entire room with a variety of entrails and organs.

"We know you're hiding there!" A presumed squad leader called out. "If you surrender now, we'll simply wipe your memory and you can go home. No harm, no foul!"

Judith smirked under the hood of her cloak, and reached into it's folds. She withdrew a futuristic looking grenade, and thumbed a button on it's surface.

"But I LIKE harm!" she called out, "Especially when it's sanctimonious reality cops like you getting it!"

She leaned out from her hiding place long enough to hurl the grenade, which exploded in a rainbow of colors, briefly dazzling the eyes of the Warhammers. Most of them recovered quickly from the flash, then quickly used their rings to throw up shields as they began being pelted by more chunks of genetically engineered quarterback.

From further down the chamber, the second and third waves of Kevins dashed into the room from the portal Judith had created. Warhammers unleashed further hell, calling to each other when necessary for backup or distractions. Around them Kevins exploded, or melted into sticky goo, keeping the Warhammers busy.

Meanwhile, Judith hunkered down behind the column as beams of energy from the Warhammers rings chipped away at the ancient stone. Judith frowned. This had ceased to be fun.

She gripped the locket in her hand and phased herself out of sync with the local timeline. She look a deep breath and began running through the Warhammers, dodging beams of light, and rolling out of the way. She charged past the squad that had her pinned down and let out a yelp of surprise as the squad leader grabbed her arm and dragged her to a halt, breaking her concentration and bringing her back into sync.

The squad leader looked down at her with a grin."Yeah, we know all about your little timeshifting technique. You want to surrender now, or do we have to just kill you outright?"

"I prefer option C," Judith said, grinning evilly. She turned her head and yelled out; "KEVIN! EMERGENCY PLAY! THIRTY-ONE Z RIGHT!"

Instantly, every Kevin in the chamber turned their heads towards the sound of Judith's voice. They all frowned simultaneously, surveying the scene.

"Yo! They're ganging up on the coach!" One of them cried. "GET 'EM!"

With a scream of machismo, the entire horde of Kevins charged towards the squad holding Judith captive. The Warhammers quickly raised their rings. Judith used the distraction to break free of the squad leader, wrap herself in her cloak, and step back form the ensuing carnage.

"Carnage" being a woefully inadequate way to describe the scene before her as the Warhammers ripped and shredded the Kevins to huge bloody pulps. The horde kept coming and the squad kept mowing them down. Judith took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of death and blood. She got to her feet and stood, reveling in the sounds of pain and agony. Relishing the wet splatters of gore that soon saturated her cloak. Her grin was satanic, bordering on sheer orgasmic bliss as she heard and felt her forces being annihilated around her.

Judith closed her eyes and shivered in delight as one Kevin managed to get through the Warhammers onslaught and explode, sending several of the Ringmasters' elite flying into the walls of the chamber. More ichor rained down from the explosion, splattering with wet thumps onto the marble floor of the chamber. Judith imagined the whole population of the multiverse screaming as they all drowned in the sea of blood and hate she would unleash.

"HOLD!"

The word echoed throughout the chamber. The portal admitting the Kevins suddenly winked out of existence, slicing those who had the misfortune to be halfway through to ribbons. The remaining Kevins screamed as they were turned to ash by brilliant flashes of light. The Warhammers looked up and stepped back respectfully as one of the Ringmasters descended into the chamber.

Judith opened her eyes and looked at the newcomer. He was tall, thin, and not entirely unattractive. She thought he bore a passing resemblance to a young Laurence Olivier.

The Ringmaster approached her with a frown on his face. He saw a short, hooded apparition, dripping with blood, with a blue white glow emanating from around her neck.

"We like to know who we are about to destroy for violating our sanctum. Who are you?"

Judith shrugged, reached up and gingerly pulled the blood-sodden hood form her head. She looked at the Ringmaster, a bored expression on her face. "My name is Judith."

"Why have you come here?"

Judith tilted her head, bristling at the imperious voice ordering her to answer. "I came here for information that the DELPHI installation in universe D-338 asked you to archive for them as insurance."

"Insurance against what?"

"Well, people like me, presumably."

"What is that around your neck?"

Judith blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. She didn't know why, but she had a strong impression that showing the Ringmaster the locket would be a good idea.

She smirked as she saw the Ringmaster's eyes widen by a fraction. He kept the rest of his expression under control, but the damage had already been done.

_Weren't expecting that, were you, O Great and Powerful Oz?_

The Ringmaster's calm demeanor was back in place. "Where do you come from, Judith?"

Another shrug. "Does it matter? I haven't been able to find it anywhere, anyway."

The Ringmaster's brow furrowed. "Indeed?" He took a deep breath, "Did it simply not occur to you to come to us and ASK for the information you wanted?"

Judith's own frown returned. "In my experience, people tend not to want to share that kind of information."

The Ringmaster inclined his head. "That is true. However, these are not usual circumstances. If we give you the information you desire, will you leave our world and never return?"

"You can keep this depressing rock. I would have prefered not to come here at all. Too much snootiness in the air for my taste." Judith said, folding her arms.

"Very well. Come with me."

Judith followed the Ringmaster past the stunned Warhammers and into the central storage cores of the Ringmasters' Well of Souls.

They emerged a few moments later. Judith flipping up the hood of her cloak again, ignoring the drops of gore that flew from it.

"And the information will stay in my head, ready to be accessed at any time?" she asked. The Ringmaster nodded.

"It will be at your disposal anytime you need it. Simply bring it to mind."

"Well, thanks for the help...I guess."

The Ringmaster didn't reply. Judith frowned.

"Yeah, fuck you too. See you around."

She grasped the locket around her neck, and the Warhammers' sense of surprise was once again tested as, completely opposite their expectation, Judith vanished in a flash of blue-white light.

The squad leader walked up to the Ringmaster. "Forgive me for being impertenant, Master. But why did you give her the information she wanted? DELPHI-338 made it clear that it was dangerous for that list to fall into the wrong hands."

"Sometimes, the right hands are the wrong hands. The young lady is more unique than even she knows." He turned to the squad leader. "Alert all Ringbearers and associates. Give them her description, tell them to be on their guard and to protect their families. Make sure our friends at the Agency are made aware as well. Great things are afoot."

The Ringmaster stared at the spot where Judith had vanished. The only area of the floor not covered in blood.

"Great and terrible things."

**Starbucks Coffee, Boston, MA, World D-101**

Daria Morgendorffer winced and put a hand to her head. She waited for the green stars in her vision to clear before she opened her eyes.

"You okay there, amiga?" Jane Lane asked from across the table. The two had met up for their weekly "coffee bitch" session. It was a time they could connect, chat, and generally whine about their various professors at Raft University and Boston Fine Arts College.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Daria replied. "Just a sudden head rush."

"Pre-finals week stress?"

"No, nothing like that. Just a weird-Jane, did you ever get a feeling of dread for no good reason?"

"Pretty much every morning I walked into homeroom back in Lawndale. Oh, wait, no. That had an actual reason. I was in high school."

"You and everyone else." Daria agreed. "No, what I mean is, I just got this weird feeling, like something really bad was about to happen and somehow, it involved me."

"What? Like somebody's going to die or something?" Jane asked. "You aren't going to tell me you're being haunted by the ghost of Tommy Sherman are you?"

Daria shook her head. "No, that's not it. Its just this dread that something really awful is going to happen, and that I'm involved, but it isn't going to happen here and it isn't going to exaclty happen to me or anyone connected with me."

"I'm having flashbacks to that story assignment O'Neill gave you. You're saying that you think something bad is going to happen, but not to you or anyone connected to you, not here, and yet you are somehow involved in it?"

"Right." Daria said. "What do you think?"

"I think you need more coffee."

"Good idea."

"And possibly psychiatric help."

"Go to hell, Lane."

"You first, Morgendorffer."

The two smirked at each other, and promply moved on to other topics.

IT BEGINS...


	2. The Best Weekend Ever

**The Best Weekend Ever**

by Brother Grimace

_"Stop it! Stop it! Oh, God - __**AHHHHHHHHHGGGGHHHH!"**_

Her left eye swollen shut, Daria Morgendorffer lay on the floor of the upstairs hallway of her family home, her petite form shuddering in pain from the vicious beating she had received only minutes earlier.

She coughed, tasting fresh blood in her mouth, and winced as the screaming of her father was suddenly muffled down into a series of piteous, ongoing whimpers; she managed to turn her head, and saw three men - two holding Jake Morgendorffer's arms down over the end board of his bed as the third, his pants down, made Jake sob in pain and humiliation as he savagely raped him.

In too much pain from the beating she had taken to even move, Daria could only lay there and watch her father's brutal assault when a sound caught her attention - the sound of the egg timer she was using to fix a porterhouse steak for Jake.

_All I wanted was for Dad to have a happy, stress-free weekend,_ the young woman thought, a tear mixing with the trail of blood from the cut on her forehead as the rapist began to make shallow, guttural noises, his lower body beginning to jerk reflexively as Jake's sobbing and pleas for divine intervention fell upon deaf ears. _That's why I said that Mom and Quinn should just go ahead and go visit Aunt Amy for the weekend - Dad could just relax, watch games on TV - and I could fix him something besides that lasagna and the TV dinners we always have..._

The smell of burning meat began to fill Daria's nostrils as Jake's assailant let off several sharp, gasping grunts and Jake shrieked in response. _I'm sorry, Dad. I Just wanted you to have the best weekend ever._

In the kitchen below, a young woman wearing a red cloak listened to the sounds of Jake's sobbing - now intermingled with piercing sounds that could only be a young woman's screams of anguish and absolute terror - as she dabbed the small slice of porterhouse steak in A-1 sauce, speared a slice of mushroom, and ate it with great satisfaction.

_This is really good,_ Judith thought, as she took a bite of the baked potato, flavored with a dab of rich butter and a sprinkling of black pepper. _I needed to stop and take a moment to relax in familiar surroundings - I can't remember when I had a nice, square meal that hit the spot like this does... oh, and these mushrooms are __perfect._

Judith took a long sip from the glass of ice-cold sparkling wine, and sighed; her smile widened as the sounds of feminine squeals of pain flowed down through the ceiling, each squeal accompanied by a solid THUMP from directly above. _An excellent meal, a wonderful drink to wash it down, 'mood music' to make the evening's ambiance perfect - there's even enough left to make a nice little 'doggie bag' to __take along with me._

This is just what I needed. 

**END**


	3. The Long Good Sandi

JUDITH STRIKES!  
THE LONG GOOD SANDI

by Charles RB

You may think you're one mean, dangerous bastard, but there's always going to be someone _worse_.

-

At age 18, Sandi Griffin had become one of the most feared and respected crime bosses in Lawndale. Her Fashion Gang had seized control of Lawndale High, first acting as middlemen for illicit materials and then rapidly expanding outside its grounds in her sophomore year. That expansion had been… tricky, but it'd left her in a dominant position.

On the surface, she looked calm and collected and untouchable. Inside, she was bricking it. She hadn't felt this nervous since she'd realised Quinn genuinely wasn't intending to usurp her (Sandi still didn't want to admit how much the Gang's expansion had relied on Quinn). The future depended on this.

"The repainting of the Princess Fairy _better_ be up to standards, _Sta_cy – remind DeeDee that it's not just my reputation on the line here, but that of her smuggling operations too. If it's not done in summer wash, I might as well just call the whole thing off."

"Y-Yes, boss, we've got Tiffany down there now."

"Keeps her out of trouble." Sandi, still lying on her bed, turned her head slightly to view Quinn; her lieutenant was studying the seating arrangements and guest list. "So, Quinn…"

"The Dega Street Boys are sending a delegation; Principal Li is obvious but I've got her seated far away from the Cavellas, I mean duh; Mum's boss is down to represent the firm, I've got him up front… Still waiting to hear back from the East Posse, but it might be better if they didn't turn up, they're too mouthy."

"Excellent." She tried not to vomit. "With the Cavella family's backing, that's the whole town under us and _outreach potential_. We don't even have to lift a finger. You know they're impressed with how far we've come so soon…"

"Well, you know who to thank for that."

"Yes, yes, _whatever_."

The Cavellas were big boys. If they backed a rival firm, that was the Fashion Gang in the shit. But if there was one thing Sandi Griffin was good at, it was running a tight ship and keeping up appearances. The mafia would turn up to see she commanded a variety of other gangs, town institutions, the law itself. That she was a worthy business partner.

And nobody – _nobody_ – would dare fuck it up for her. Not _now_, not if they wanted to live.

Her gang were the most dangerous people in town.

-

Tiffany had always been a bit slow but she knew how to recognise trouble.

The Princess Fairy burning on the river bank, however, almost didn't register. _How?_ _Who_ – no, not _who_, nobody would dare –

The thing in the red cloak moved faster than anyone should have been able to move, in ways nobody should have been able to move, smashing Tiffany into the ground and pinning her underfoot. Her eyes were glowing, something that just should not _be_, another sickening impossibility on top of—

And then the woman took her cloak off and Tiffany saw her face.

"Oh no. No. No no no no-"

Thirty seconds later, Judith strode off with blood caked up to her shoulders.

"Oh, D-1979 – dystopia world, near complete absence of any psychic powers and no native magic whatsoever…" She grinned. "Oh, this is going to be a piece of _piss_."

–

She was deliberately putting up an angry front, but inside Sandi was screaming in terror.

The Cavellas would be here within two hours, and the cruise ship was burnt to ash and one of her right-hand girls had been butchered at the scene. Someone was having a go. Someone was having a go now of all days.

Officer Curtis, one of the "pet" cops, had let her, Quinn and Stacy onto the crime scene; a few fifties kept the other cops quiet. At the sight of the corpse, Stacy threw up.

"I can't begin to guess who we should be leaning on," said Curtis. "Jesus, I haven't seen this sort of thing since…" He paused, then decided to go ahead. "Well, since you guys were first expanding."

Sandi glared, not liking the implication. "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, scare tactics are hardly _unknown_ in organised crime, Curtis."

"Not like this and you know it."

"Gee, _maybe_ I should back another officer's bid for detective." She jabbed her finger at his squad car. "Split."

Quinn waited until Curtis had gone, then spoke up: "I'll go straight home, get Mum to make her law firm put up the Cavellas. That'll keep them dazzled."

"Good plan." It was a few seconds before Sandi realised what she'd said. "Gee, Quinn, maybe _you_ should've been in charge of-"

"There's no need for that, Sandi," she said quietly. "I'm worried too."

"I'm not worried. I'm _annoyed_. Who do you think has done this: the DeWitts? The Maniax? The triad wanting to muscle in?"

"Maybe the Cavellas? They could want us in a weaker position…"

Sandi blanced. "Oh crap. That…. That would be the worst it could possibly get, right enough."

-

Timothy O'Neill's apartment made a great base camp, especially after the pieces of him had been disposed of.

Her feet up on the shattered pieces of O'Neill's most prized possessions – no strategic reason, she'd just been bored – Judith worked away on a computer that could not possibly exist in the year 2002. Images were displayed in the air itself, isolating the various targets.

"It really is tempting to just got 'eenie, meanie, miney, mo' with these," she said to herself, "but business before pleasure. Ha. Right."

She had a lot of work to do if she wanted the town in flames by tomorrow.

-

"…and Sandi's really desperate here, Mum, _pleeeeaaase_?"

"Oh, Quinn." Helen smiled. "You don't have to ask about something like this. The firm would bend over backwards for the Cavellas anyway – mutual interest, sweetie!"

Jake looked up from the paper, frowning with the unscarred side of his face. "Awww, a party with just the firm? Damn it, I wanted to meet Nicky Cavella! You know I worked for his father back in-"

"_Yes_, Jake, you will keep bringing it up."

"Kiddo, you don't need any extra muscle, do you?"

"Nah, we should be fine, Dad. Sandi's getting all the boys to tool up and everything."

"Well, I worry about you and so does your mother. You've come so far, none of us want to see you lose it all to some Johnny-come-lately punks!" He scowled. "Always some bastards in this game wanting to push you aside and take your place-"

Daria, almost forgotten and her nose in a book, spoke up before Jake could get into his rant. "Is this a conversation I should be paying attention to?"

"Nah, we got it handled," said Quinn.

"Because I haven't got anything planned for tonight…"

"Geez, I said we got it handled! God!"

Daria said nothing, but went back to reading.

A minute later, before she could call the firm, Helen's cell phone rang. She answered it with her normal cheery greeting, only to turn pale within seconds. She barely spoke, barely twitched, before hanging up.

"That was Marienne," she said faintly. "Eric… there was a bomb in his car. Eric's dead. The… the police are using it as an excuse to raid the office."

"I…" Quinn looked at her, stunned. "But you owned the commissioner for that precinct…"

"Internal Affairs got to him. Earlier today. Somehow the news didn't reach us."

"That's… that's not a coincidence…" She took a deep breath. "I have to go call Sandi."

Daria said nothing.

-

Jesse, second-in-command of the Dega Street Boys, had been burnt to death in his own home. And so had his girlfriend. And his three-month-old son.

Judith drove off, singing "Girls just wanna have fu-_un_!" as she went.

–

It was all coming apart.

"We send the Three J's," Sandi snapped, pacing her room and trying not to look at Quinn or Stacy; they might notice she was scared. "They're going to stomp up Dega Street until they find who killed Jesse, because _someone_ saw _something_! We can't do anything about the firm, not yet, but we can at least find out who's operating closer to home and then-"

"The Cavellas are arriving in-"  
_  
"I know!"_ Sandi took a deep breath. "I know. Okay, fine, whatever, Tokyo Tony's. We, we, we bring them the remains of whoever's doing this during dinner, that'll show we can take care of our turf."

"We need to be careful," said Quinn. "Right now we don't have any lawyers. We need to, er… well, not everyone in the police is on the take…"

"Stacy, start moving anything incriminating to the safehouse." She abruptly smacked the girl upside the face. "Move!"

"I,I, I…. S-sure…"

Quinn watched her go, then turned to Sandi in anger. "You didn't need to do that, _jeez!_ We're all scared, but just because Stacy's-"

"Well, I'm _sorry_ we're not all soulless robots like your sister! Anyway, Stacy's such a fucking victim, _who cares_."

"You know what, I'm going back home. I'll meet with the Cavellas when they get here. You… you calm the hell down, or whatever. Learn to handle the pressure."

She went, and Sandi was left alone. No big boat party with her allies and puppets around her, no grand meeting with the beautiful people, no armies at her command. Just photos on her desk and the sickness in her stomach.

_Who are you? What's all this __**about?**_

-

Joey, Jeffy and Jamie (aka The Other One) were the Fashion Gang's most dedicated and feared shooters. They worked seamlessly as a team, as if they shared the same mind, reacting like a single entity. Sending them out to question people? That was like using napalm to clean the kitchen sink.

They knew this was serious.

"All right, apartment searched room by room-"

"-starting with Jesse's floor, kick the doors in-"

"-and put the frighteners on. Masks on!"

Donning matching 'devil' masks, the J's drew out their sidearms and kicked the first door in. They came in screaming and swearing, nightmares come to tear up your peaceful life, and the girl on the sofa in the red cloak just—

The door slammed shut and Jeffy neck was snapped.

The girl suddenly appeared over his corpse, like she'd always been there, she'd been sitting on the sofa and was suddenly _here_ and –

Jamie and Joey reacted fast, spinning away from her position and opening fire once they were secure. She dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding the guns, drew out a toy laser pistol –

Joey's right shoulder ceased to exist. There was only a burnt stump and a falling arm and the stench of burnt flesh and his screams.

Then his face followed.

And then the killer, this unnatural _thing_, removed her hood and showed who she was.

Jamie stood there, unable to fire, his pants full of shit, begging himself to fire damn it _fire_.

"This was lucky, I got back here just before you arrived and got the first room you picked! Fortune favours the brave." She smiled. "I really should kill you and run, but I really think you should see what's happened the guy who normally lives here…"

-

Staci grabbed the phone, burning with hope: "You've found who did it?"

It was Quinn. "The J's are… The J's are dead."

Oh.

"Ambushed. I… I really have no idea what's happened, there must have been a gang but the _state_ of two of the bodies…"

"Get Stacy to meet with the Cavellas."

"…what?"

"Just temporarily. We're going to solve this." She was starting to shout down the phone. "Get a group together: I want the heads of _every_ rival crew taken to Cashman's."

"That risks total war-"

"They're going to be reminded _why they feared me!_ We're sorting this, we're doing it now, we show off to the Cavellas when we've found the guilty bastards."

"Do you… do you want me to get-"

"Not yet. We'll do that when we've found out who needs eviscerating. An example must be made."

-

As Quinn went to leave her house, she paused and went to take one of her dad's guns from their cupboard. Both Jake and Daria saw this from the kitchen, the latter showing no reaction.

"Serious, kiddo?"

"Very."

"Don't need one of us along?"

_Yes._ "No. It… it will all be fine, daddy. Thanks."

"Don't forget: other people make good human shields," said Daria.

"That's not funny."

"Who's joking?"

Her sister stormed off, her face unreadable. Jake watched her go, allowed a brief flicker of concern, quashed it, and turned to Daria with a fake grin.

"Wanna give me a hand preparing dinner, kiddo?"

"Okay."

-

Back at her base, Judith checked her watch and then the spy cameras she'd placed around the DeWitt place. Once Sandi made her move, it was time to make hers.

She turned to her men: dangerous men, mercenaries trained in teleportkreig warfare from D-29812. She'd prefer to do everything herself, but she was on a tight schedule. Besides, she'd just kill them and take her money back after the job was done.

"At arms, men. Any minute now…"

–

They were dragged in, kicking and screaming, to the stockroom at the back of Cashman's. Ted DeWitt of the DeWitt family, Shawna of the Southsiders, "D-Day" of the Maniax biker gang, Chen of the triads' Lawndale branch (who was roaring that they had no idea who they were fucking with).

They kept up the bravado even when Sandi turned up with the baseball bat.

"You think your little punk-ass outfit can get away with this?" Chen spat. "They're gonna come and slaughter you and your minions and your families and-"

Staci broke his knee with the bat.

"I don't know who has been doing this," she said, her voice rising above Chen's screams, "but one of you is either behind the hits on me and mine, or you know who is. And you're going to talk. Scream all you like about consequences and war, it's time you were reminded that while you may be mean, dangerous bastards, _there is someone worse than you._"

-

Across Lawndale, four raids happened simultaneously. All witnesses died.

-

"Mmm, this is going to be one good stew!" Jake flipped the pork chunks into the pot with a theatrical flourish. "How're the carrots coming along?"

"Fine," said Daria, chopping the aforementioned plants up. "Knife versus carrot. No brainer."

"Now Daria, you need to put love and care into these dishes! It's a fine art!"

Helen entered the kitchen and thrust a gun into Jake's hands. "Now _don't_ argue, Jake, with things the way they are I want us both armed just… you know, in case."

"I was trying not to think about it. Might spoil dinner. But look, the girls are capable and can handle their shit, this will all get straightened before morning-"

Three gunmen appeared in a crack of ozone, a rape of the laws of psychics and reality itself, and three rifles fired three bullets into Helen's back.

Jake drew his gun and started to yell, and died mid-sentence.

Daria stood there, frozen, the kitchen knife still in mid-chop.

The lead commando grinned. "Target acquired."

-

After two minutes of the beatings, Quinn got fed up and interjected.

"Sandi. _Sandi!_"

"_What?"_

"This is pointless! Nobody's saying anything – that means nobody _knows_ anything!"

"But…" Sandi clung to the bloodied bat like a security blanket. "It has to be one of them. It has to."

"It's not. I'm sorry. We're dealing with someone from out of town. I… look, maybe it is the Cavellas. Maybe a different gang who want to get in. Maybe… Hell, maybe it's our 'ally' East Posse, they haven't been hit."

"Yeah." Sandi breathed in. "Yeah. East Posse. Must be." She turned to her men, her manner changing. "All right, you peons! Next raid: we're bringing in the East Posse 'capo'!"

"Er…" Robert, who'd been trying not to look at the beatings, raised a hand nervously. "What do we do about… erm…" He gestured at the four captives. "You know."

"Hmm. Okay, here's what-"

Shots ran out and Robert fell dead.

So did all of Sandi's other men, leaving just her and Quinn.

Her, Quinn, and the red-cloaked woman and her six gunmen.

"I'm sorry," said Judith. "I must have broken your concentration."

Sandi screamed and ran at her, bat poised to swing, not caring about the soldiers, just wanting to beat this bitch to death for what she'd done, and yet one kick laid her flat on her back.

"_Please."_

"Wh-wh-"

"Why? I had some items to procure in this Lawndale. There were four of them scattered about, and I've got some guys after me – I wanted a distraction, something that would make four raids and murders hide in plain sight." She shrugged. "How about a fucking great gang war? It'd be like hiding hay in a hay stack: nobody will see it."

"Th-" Sandi's eyes bulged. "That's it? You didn't… you…"

"Oh, did you think I was trying to steal your turf?" Judith laughed out loud, shaking her head with mirth. "Sandi, Sandi, Sandi… this is one town, in one universe. It's small time stuff. I've got bigger things to do. Oh yeah, the Cavellas do too, by the way, they never intended to have you as an equal partner. Duh."

On the floor, Sandi made a brief strangled noise as everything came down. Nobody had a gun on her, but she didn't get up.

"If you have what you wanted, why are you here?" whispered Quinn.

"To kill everyone in this building, so the four crime gangs you've pissed off will come after your crew – who will be unable to fight. Then the other gangs will fight among themselves, then the Cavellas will steam in and the police will look the other way because at least it means order. I like to be thorough." She smiled, like a crocodile. "But hey, I respect what you little girls had going here, I really do. Very nice work with the beatings. How long did it take you to set up?"

"F-Four years. I-I-I-It mainly got started when I moved here, I…"

"Good for you, Quinn. That's the go-getter spirit I remember. Wish I'd looked into your past instead of just your present situation, bet there's some fun stuff there. Killed anyone yourself?"

Quinn's head was spinning. This women – this thing – was actually carrying out a friendly conversation before she… before…

"Why aren't we dead yet?"

"Oh, I'm waiting for the third and final victim. I could do it now, but… well, there's a Green Jacketed Snot Nose Bitch around that hasn't been gang-raped and tortured to death. It's a weakness, I know, but everyone needs a hobby."

"Green- _Daria?_"

"Yeah, her. My men are bringing her in alive but your parents will be dead, by the way, just thought I'd throw that out."

"You killed them but Daria's alive- Oh no." She began to shake, her eyes widening. "Oh god no."

-

Daria finished eating the last piece of carrot.

Then, calmly, she walked over the corpse and looked down at the two surviving gunmen, their hands and feet nailed to the floor with kitchen knives, their voices hoarse with screaming.

"I'd like to know how you teleported in here, and what's going on. I'm assuming you've got Quinn."

Without looking, she shot one of the men through the head and then knelt down to the other.

"Please tell me."

There was no emotion in her voice.

–

There had always been something wrong with Daria. She'd kept to herself, rarely talked to other kids, and her parents would occasionally find dead animals around the house.

At age nine, when a kid started a fight with her, she beat him half to death. At age 14, when Highland's main gang leader Todd had attempted to rob her, she systematically demolished them in a three-day campaign of terror. Todd himself, trying a revenge attack on Quinn, 'disappeared' later on. When Quinn first got involved in gang running, Daria acted as her after-school enforcer; Helen and Jake had to have a quiet talk with her about keeping covert.

When the Morgendorffers moved to Lawndale, Quinn entered the Fashion Gang and brought Daria with her. Much of the gang's expansion can be traced back to her ferocious and methodical brutality. After three months, Sandi had to sign a peace treaty with the other gangs promising she would not use Daria again – otherwise, they would have all united to erase the Fashion Gang.

The Fashion Gang grew strong on the back of Daria's actions, while the girl herself faded into the background. If someone from outside Lawndale had come in and researched the place, they could very well have thought Daria was just exceptionally withdrawn and unimportant.

She never smiled or scowled once during her reign of terror.

-

"Oh god oh god oh god-"

Quinn was still freaking out. Sandi was beginning to _laugh_. It was getting on Judith's nerves.

"You have no idea haahahahahahaha _no idea what you've done HAHAHA_"

"People used to wait until I was slicing pieces off before they had the breakdowns. What happened to those days?" She sighed. "Screw it, shoot everyone now, we'll do the Bitch later."

There was a crack of ozone, and then part of the stockroom exploded.

And then another, flames devouring their way through the stored clothes. And clearly designed to put a fire at Judith's back, cutting off her ability to retreat.

"Oh for – Okay, congratulations, you found me early. Who are you, then? Ringbearers? Foundation? DELPHI? Agency?" As she talked, she removed a sinister little device from her cloak – a shimmering field formed around her and her mercs, designed to absorb spells and energy weapons. Just the thing for pyrokinesis. "If only you people actually turned up before I'd achieved by objectives, you might actually stand a chance-"

A Molotov cocktail sailed lazily through the air, and came down to complete the fire trap. One of the soldiers screamed as he burned.

Judith had time to realise she'd made a tactical error before Daria emerged from behind a row of dresses. She was firing a mercenary's rifle and walking calmly forward, and two mercenaries were down before the others returned fire.

"_HAHAHAHA NO IDEA AT ALL WHIRL THE REAPWIND AHAHA"_

Bullets flew past her but she walked on, unhurried, expressionless, leaving all the soldiers dead as she went.

Judith drew her laser as Daria's rifle clicked on a lack of ammo; the girl dropped it and drew out her father's pistol, just as a laser blast winged her. Flesh was singed and stank like pork, but she didn't cry out or falter but simply fired.

Judith hauled up Sandi as a hostage – then dropped her to run as Daria fired anyway, two bullets cutting off the madwoman's laughing. She returned fire wildly, then stopped and started to aim as she saw _Daria_ _wasn't fucking dodging._

The gun ran out of bullets. She dropped it and headed to pick up a dead man's rifle.

This was not how it was supposed to go. This was a _mundane_ alternate. Judith had faced her share of automatons and other evil versions of herself, but a fucking mundane? Doing _this_? And why – if she'd been a lesser being, she'd say she was afraid of something here.

"You do realise we're in a room full of flammable stuff and you've set a fire, ri-" She dodged a shot. "Right?"

"Where's" BANG "Quinn" BANG

"Back at your firetrap."

Daria paused, then started to walk backwards firing continuously as she went. Still, Judith had the advantage again. Shifting through time, she was able to get in behind the bitch – and the final touch of her attack, the thing that always caught the bitch off-guard, the removing of the hood to show they were the same person. There would be a brief second of confusion, long enough to break her neck, there was always a second of confusion –

Judith lowered the hood and Daria calmly bit her in the face.

"FUCKING BITCH CUNT-"

A devastating punch to the stomach threw her foe to the floor, though it felt like she'd taken some skin with it. Screaming with rage, she reached into the cloak to get the most horrible weapon she could –

And on the floor, Daria grabbed her boot, pulling her down.

And then pulling it off.

And then shoving a kitchen knife through her ankle.

And _twisting._

She pulled it out, got up, and looked around for Quinn. The girl was standing there, petrified and having pissed herself over all the chaos, coughing and spluttering as the smoke and flame reached her.

"Quinn. Let's go."

Judith tried to get up, but there was no supporting _that_ leg. Still, this wasn't the end – she'd taken hideous injury before and would again, this was fixable. And she still had a shot at killing that fucking bitch, wait until she turns to gloat, then get her…

"You're going to leave me to burn?" she screamed, waiting for the inevitable response from Daria, the inevitable need to wank over the victory and leave her flank open. "You want me to suffer that much? You want-"

Daria wasn't looking at her. She was looking at the teleport device she'd used to get in.

"S-Sandi-" Quinn gasped, scanning the fire. "Sandi's still in there somewh-"

"No time," said Daria. "We're leaving now."

"Hey! HEY! Kill me with some dignity! Do you vengeance so bad th-"

Daria looked back at her. "I don't have time to kill you myself. Building's on fire"

The Morgendorffer girls teleported out, and Judith turned to her locket. (The bitch hadn't known what it was, hadn't seen one of the merc's teleporters and assumed there was none on her, well ha ha) She'd get out. She'd won.

She had a shredded ankle in need of healing and she'd just met someone who didn't care about life or death at all – not their own, not anyone else's, none of it really meaning anything. Heroes she understood, villains she understood, but that girl hadn't shown any enjoyment in killing and mutilation, nothing, not a single jot of sadism and bloodlust. That was...

"I have not met a worse bastard than me. I have not. I am a fucking cancer on the multiverse, I've killed dozens of people here alone, I'm not _scared_. Fuck this place, I'm going home.""

Daria's eyes had been the abyss.

-

The instant they got home, Quinn vomited and started to scream at the sight of their parents. Daria just stood and let her.

"Quinn."

"OH GOD I CAN'T NO NO NO"

"_Quinn_. I am going to go meet the Cavellas for you."

"Wh-what are-"

"I will ask them to leave and explain to them consequences if they don't. You're now leader of the Fashion Gang: other gangs are now without leaders, move fast and you can absorb them. Almost everyone has taken losses, they want things to be fixed, and you can tell them the Cavella family will try to muscle in. Any holdouts, I can kill and desecrate as a warning."

"I-I don't kn-"

"I can take care of it for you."

"Th-Th-Thanks, sis. That's… yes, please. That helps."

"Okay."

Daria walked into the night, and nothing it contained was as bleak and horrible as herself.

THE END


	4. The Gift of the Ringwraiths

_The Gift of the Ringwraiths___

A _Tale of the Ringbearers__, by Brother Grimace_

(NOTE: This is a fic in the '_Judith Strikes!'_ shared-world series.)

Judith shrieked as blue-white flame exploded out of her mouth, carbonizing her tongue and cutting off the scream as her face, and then head, disappeared in the blistering, five-foot-tall column of fire that her body had become.

In seconds, the young woman dropped upon the front lawn of the Morgendorffer home, leaving scorch marks as her flailing body jerked about in its death throes - and then lay still, the scent of her roasting flesh filling the air.

"Okay - let's go," Anastasia Rowe said, her eyes glowing with a copper light. "She's dead, I'm happy, and we need to meet up with the others - but before we go, let's torch this damn house. In almost every reality I've seen, it's like a fucking shrine."

"It is strange, I admit," Ian Llywd admitted, nodding at how the home behind them - even the grass on the front lawn, the groceries in the refrigerator and even the fact that there was power going into the house from somewhere; it was as if the house itself was protected by Time itself - bothered him. "I'm not a fan of any of these women myself. The 'Daria' I encountered caused me to lose my world."

Anastasia smiled - but Ian held up his hand. "But - a deal's a deal... and we did receive half of our pay up front."

The young woman (but only in appearance) looked down at Ian's hand, where he wore a different _Vengeance Ring_ from the one he wore before; they now wore the only two true _Vengeance Ring_s left in existence... full-power Rings, from before the multiversal reset, and somehow 'protected' from the effect that should have altered them...

_As it did my first Ring,_ he thought, as he reflexively felt the pocket where that Ring rested.

"Bringing her back means we get a new world to rule... and to plan our vengeance against the _Agency,_" Ian continued.

_"__The Agency__,"_ Anastasia hissed, remembering how she had to flee the world she had subjugated seconds before an Agency reset would have erased her from existence. "And I thought we were ruthless bastards. Fine - but _first__..."_

"You are one sick woman," Ian chuckled, as Anastasia used her telekinesis to pull a clump of earth from the lawn, transforming it into 'ambrosia' – the psychoactive substance that could be turned into any imaginable form of food – and then, transforming the ambrosia into a thick, rich barbecue sauce that poured slowly over the smoldering corpse, covering it thoroughly. "I must admit, though – I do like that about you."

Anastasia's emerald eyes sparkled as she looked over to her fellow Ringwraith; on the lawn, the corpse gave off popping, crackling sounds as the barbecue sauce cooked into the flesh, still too hot to touch, as Anastasia's ring created a gentle corona of flame over the charred remains. "Okay, she's been dead for over a minute," she said, glancing in Ian's direction as the flames disappeared. "Bring her back."

Ian nodded; his ring sparkled in the sunlight as copper light shone from his eyes.

Judith's corpse shone with the same copper light – and the two _Ringwraiths_ watched as the young woman, her body fully healed, returned to life with a strangled, surprised gasp.

"Oh, my," Ian mused, studying Judith's nude form as he used his _Vengeance Ring_ to restore the lawn beneath her. "Evil little bird's got the body of a _spinner_…"

The female Ringwraith rolled her eyes. "Get her cloak."

Ian made a casual wave with his hand, and a red cloak soared through the front door of the Morgendorffer home. As the Ringwraiths watched, the cloak expanded itself as it covered Judith, becoming a giant tent…

Less than a minute later, the cloak retracted itself to its original size; it wound itself around Judith, now garbed in a simple gray outfit. "Well, that was – an experience," she said, looking around the area before focusing her attention on the Ringwraiths – and giving Anastasia a surly glare. "And you didn't even wait to hear any of my directions."

"What was there to wait for?" the Ringwraith shrugged. "You wanted to die and be resurrected. It's not as if that's something that has a lot of steps."

Judith growled at them both, the locket around her neck flashing with a blue light that pulsed for several seconds in an exact rhythm with the light in her eyes. "You burned me alive – and then covered my charred corpse with barbecue sauce? _You __grilled__ my remains?"_

Ian pointed in Anastasia's direction as he took a step away from his fellow Ringwraith. "That was all her."

"What's death without a little desecration?" Anastasia giggled. "By the way – mesquite- honey barbecue is _so_ your color. It sets off the highlights in your hair – well, it would have, if it hadn't all been burned away."

"In any event," Ian cut in, before either woman could comment further, "We've held up our end of the deal, Judith. You died – a violent, senseless death that you didn't expect or see coming. You experienced every detail, every moment of agony involved with that – and we brought you back to life."

The Ringwraith walked up to Judith. "The rest of our payment, please."

Judith smiled as she reached deep inside her cloak, and withdrew a square that – to Ian – looked like a cigarette pack-sized block of tofu. "This is an bio-organic shield module, which can adapt to cloak anything you wish – physical objects, energy signatures, biological life signs, anything you want. You should be able to duplicate the material with your Rings at will – just take a taste of it, and then, have at it."

"Does it taste like crap or chicken?" Ian asked, looking the module over warily – he'd had tofu before; one of his former Agency team members was a vegan, and had lived on the food.

"Chicken crap," Judith said, as Ian broke the module in half, handing part to Anastasia as he opened up a 'hammerspace' portal and placed his half inside. "Make enough of this and plant it around the world – let it get into the environment through living creatures, who will act as living dampeners for their scans - and the _Ringbearers_ will never detect you or your Rings here on this Earth. Actually, they won't be coming here anyway. This world is under _Agency_ jurisdiction, and they haven't been here in ten years."

Something went _click_ in Ian's mind; Anastasia's Ring-shields had already activated, and the information on her heads-up display made her growl with anger:

_**==ALERT! Active HST infestation zone**__  
==Classification: Reanimate/Romero-class - MULTIPLE FORMS  
==Classification: Reanimate/Russo-class - MULTIPLE FORMS  
==Classification: Reanimate/Umbrella-class - MULTIPLE FORMS  
==Infestation Intensity Level Status: __**CLASS FOUR**_ **EXTREME**

_==HST shields deployed  
==Recommend against use of primary reanimate-disruption endowment due to physical constraints of human physiology_

_**==CONFIRMED CHAIN SWARM **__**IN PROCESS**__**  
==**__**EVACUATE CURRENT LOCATION IMMEDIATELY**_

"Bitch!" she hissed, as the first wave of zombified creatures – once-human, and barely-animal – came around the corner, drawn by the sounds of their voices and the scents in the air. "You think that we can't deal with the undead?"

"Oh, no - I'm sure you can," Judith said, her voice tinkling with happiness as the necklace she wore began to emanate a sparkling blue light. "Ten years ago, the _Agency_ dealt with a being called _Apocalypse_ on this Earth. They evacuated the survivors to another world, and convinced the _Corps of Ringbearers_ not to destroy this planet – they felt that the surviving life forms here deserved the chance to evolve, the same way that mammals did after the event that wiped out the dinosaurs."

"_So this world's full of zombies?"_ Ian barked, transmuting the crowd of over a thousand zombies into silver as Judith's locket opened a portal into space and time thirty feet above them. "Oh, bloody hell!"

"Almost _five billion_ zombies, Mr. Lloyd," Judith told him, as she began to float upwards, drawn in by the gentle pull of the portal. "Not to mention all of the other species that exist in zombified forms – think of it as '_Noah's Ark – Max Brooks style'._ You're going to have an interesting time living here – for a while, anyway.

She shrugged as a wave of zombified animals seemed to explode from almost every direction – strangely enough, they avoided the Morgendorffer residence as the Ringwraiths flew just above street level and away from the house, frustrating the animals as they followed along, a cesspool of snarling, undead flesh that hissed and snapped as it expanded beneath them by the second. "Whichever way that goes."

A pulse of thin, bluish energy exploded from Judith's locket, and Ian's eyes widened as a new message read across his heads-up display:

_==Planetary interdiction field established_

==Dimensional portal travel _**restricted**__  
==Extra-dimensional travel __**currently unavailable**__  
==Trans-temporal travel __**currently unavailable**__  
==Cross-dimensional travel unaffected by interdiction field_

==Estimated time until depletion of planetary interdiction field power levels to allow for off-world travel (standard unit/hours): 167:58: 56

Anastasia waved her Ring-hand, and the second wave of zombies were obliterated where they stood as a massive rain of pea-sized spheres of light sprayed from her hand, instantly incinerating any undead flesh it struck. "_Bitch__!"_ she screeched once more.

"Well, _yes_ - but not for _this_," the woman said, disappearing into the portal she created. "In exchange for your help, I led you to a world where you and yours could be safe from detection, live in comfort, and have access to everything you could possibly need as you prepared for whatever your future goals are. I never gave you a reason as to _why_ this would be so."

The Ringwraiths suddenly found themselves in deep shade; looking up, they saw a massive flock of winged creatures – hundreds of thousands, millions, _tens of millions_ of undead creatures, blocking out the sun as they flew unerringly towards the only non-zombified life on the planet. "Welcome to the New World, Ringwraiths," Judith said, as the portal closed. "Welcome to Zombie Earth. I've burned your ships – and now, it's time for you to tame your new home."

**END**


	5. Red Winged Angel

**JUDITH STRIKES!:**

**RED WINGED ANGEL**

A "Daria" fanfic

by Erin Mills

Jane stood on the corner in the late February evening, shivering in her thin jacket. The only other things protecting her from the cold were a black halter top, a red miniskirt that just barely covered her ass, some lingere that could be ruined by a good sneeze, and her boots. And, as often came to her mind these days, she wondered when the hell her life had turned to complete and utter shit.

The Economic Meltdown back in '07 had been the start for a lot of people. The economy went into the toilet and then it all turned political and things just happened. The crime rate went up, more people ended up on the streets, and Lawndale began its slide into being a complete slum.

Jane had been going through a lean period in her art career and she soon found herself unable to get a day job to pay the bills. Her sales dried up, she got behind on her bills, and she lost her apartment.

Adrift without options, and with the distance to Lawndale too expensive to traverse, Jane turned to the last thing she wanted.

The oldest profession.

She wished Daria were still alive. Daria would never have let her fall so far. But Daria had died in an apartment fire six years ago, and Trent had taken Mystik Spiral to Europe in an effort to build a following shortly after Jane had moved to New York the first time. She hadn't seen him since.

She sighed and scanned the alley again. Aside from the occasionall half starved cat, the street was empty. It was too damn cold for anyone with any sense to be out on the streets. A horrified scream echoed through the night. Jane ignored it. Probably another M-7 junkie ran out his supply again.

Almost by reflex, Jane checked the grafitti on the walls of the buildings around her. Sure enough, scribbled under a cornice on the building in front of her was a freshly sprayed stylized "Rx" symbol and a time. Well, the junkie was going to have a long wait for his next fix. The Doctor didn't open for business until the following night.

There were more and more of those symbols aroud the city these days. Signs of how badly everyone felt the need to escape this pit of filth that passed for the world.

She glanced at the cheap watch on her wrist. 2:30. Another half hour of this and she was packing it in. Sammy could just bitch if he wanted. It was too damn cold for anyone to want a blowjob in the backseat tonight, anyway.

"Hey, you!"

Jane automatically turned to face the direction the voice was coming from, then fell to the ground as Sammy, her pimp, backhanded her hard across the face.

Jane fell to her knees, trying to clear the stars from her eyes. She licked the corner of her mouth and tasted blood. Sammy had caught her with one of the large chunky rings on his left hand again. She looked up in learned fear as the six foot six overmuscled Nordic asshole that had made her life hell for the last two years glared down at her.

"What's this shit I hear you talkin' about leavin', Jane?" Sammy snarled. "Some of the boys say you've been talkin' about blowin' town, and leavin' ol' Sammy in the lurch."

_No, I said I wanted to blow town after I cut your balls off and force feed them to you, you fucking dolt._

She knew better than to say what she was actually thinking. The last time she had mouthed off to Sammy, he had broken six of her ribs and both wrists. Then had forced her to pull an all nighter every night for the next two weeks. "Ho don't need hands to do her job," he had said when Jane showed him her bandaged wrists. "The holes work just fine."

"No, Sammy, I wasn't. I meant I was thinking of going and seeing my brother in a month or-AAAAAH!"

She fell to the ground as Sammy kicked her in the ribs.

"Bitch, you go when I TELL you you can go!" He grabbed Jane's arm roughly and pulled her upright, shaking her slightly as he did so. "You've been getting mighty uppity, Lady Jane. In fact, some of the girls been sayin' you've been holding out on me."

_Suzi, that fucking bitch._ Before Jane had come along Suzi was the top earner in Sammy's stable, and it has frosted her ass when the johns started wanting more and more time with Jane. She'd had it in for her ever since.

"I give you everything, Sammy, you know that." she said quietly. "I always play straight with you."

"Really? Then why did I see you chattin' it up with that goddamn preacher last night?"

Oh shit. He'd seen her talking to Father Michael at St. Stephen's. The priest was a well known advocate for getting women out of prostitution and sex slavery. Jane had gotten caught up in a conversation with him, trying to see if there was any way she could get help from the church without letting anyone know she wanted to get out.

So much for that plan.

Her hesitation proved to be her undoing. Sammy took her silence as an admission and dragged her into an alley. He slammed her up against the wall and drove his fist into her solar plexus. The air rushed form Jane's lungs and she collapsed to the ground, her body trying desperately to draw air. Sammy follwed the punch up with a couple of kicks to Jane's midsection, sending her onto her side.

"I OWN YOU! DO YOU GET THAT, YOU STUPID CUNT?" he screamed down at her, his face turning purple with rage. "YOU QUIT WHEN I TELL YOU TO QUIT. YOU FUCK WHO I TELL YOU TO FUCK AND YOU NEVER, EVER TRY TO FUCK ME OVER WITH NO GOD DAMN PRIEST!"

Jane managed to get enough air to squeak. "...'m sorry, Sammy..."

Sammy took a breath. "Not yet, you ain't. Get your ass up."

Jane struggled to her feet, but apparently she wasn't moving fast enough.

Sammy jerked her to her feet, turned her around, forced her up against the wall, and ripped her jacket off, tossing it to the side. He forced Jane to put her palms on the wall of the alley, then knelt down.

Jane bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to force the tears back as Sammy fumbled roughly under her skirt and ripped off her panties, tossing the ruined material aside. He folded the hem of the skirt upwards a couple of times, so it was just slightly above the curve of Jane's buttocks. He stood back up and turned Jane back around, then put a huge hand around her throat.

"There. Now they can SMELL you. Smell that juicy thing you got, and come runnin' like dogs in heat. I'm pulling the other girls. Too damn cold. But you, Janey girl, you still gotta make DOUBLE quota tonight or you gonna be working the rest of the month with more than just a couple of busted wrists. Got it?"

Jane nodded. Sammy slapped her again, sending blood from her cut lip spattering on the wall.

"Do you GOT it?" he repeated.

"Yeah...I got it, Sammy. Double quota." Jane whispered, all the while recoiling from the part of her that was screaming in frustration and anger for being so weak.

"Good." Sammy reached into the pocket of his jacket and threw a wad of paper napkins at her. "Clean yourself up."

Jane knelt down and picked up the napkins, forcing herself not to look at the smug grin on Sammy's face as he watched her scrabble in the gutter.

"You know," came a female voice from down the alley, "I always thought it was bad business for a pimp to fuck up the face of one of his girls. I mean, sure, you might get some johns who like scar tissue and brusing, but I'd have to imagine those are few and far between, and they're probably cheapskates besides."

Jane and Sammy turned ro face the sound of the voice. It was a short figure wrapped in a long hooded red cloak. The cloak covered the body, while the hood effectively hid the figure's face.

Sammy's cretin forehead wrinkled as he frowned at the newcomer. "This ain't your problem. This here is a management seminar, and if you don't want to regret finding it, you'd best be moving along."

"Awww," the cloaked woman whined, walking slowly towards them. She held up a large bundle of cash. "And I was hoping to do business."

Sammy's frown reverse itself and turned into raised eyebrows as he looked at the huge wad of cash. "Well, why didn't you say so? I got some of the top bitches in the city. What's your pleasure?"

A gloved hand emerged form the cloak and pointed at Jane. "Her."

Sammy pursed his lips in mock thought. "Dunno if you want this one, ma'am. She's uppity, which is why we were having our little seminar, if you get my drift. And she's not exactly looking her best."

The cloaked woman shrugged. "I like my bitches with a few bumps and bruises."

Sammy grinned, showing off his ironically perfect teeth. "Hey, whatever floats your boat, lady." He stepped forward. "Payment in advance, if you don't mind."

The woman shrugged and held out the pack of money. Sammy took hold of it.

No sooner had he done so, than the woman's foot flashed out from under the cloak and nailed the pimp squarely in the balls. Sammy yelped in pain and doubled over. The woman's free hand shot forward and grabbed Sammy's nose between the knuckles of her first two fingers. She leaned in close and smiled.

"Who's my bitch?" she whispered.

She twisted her wrist and the pimp's moans turned into screams. The woman took a step back and her foot flashed out again, catching Sammy squarely on the chin. The pimp went upright again, then off his feet and flat on his ass.

Jane stared in horror and fascination at what happened next. The woman proceeded to beat Sammy to within an inch of his life, cloak swirling behind her.

Elbows, feet, knees, fists, even fingers. All were used to strike at points designed to cause the maximum amount of pain and suffering. Sammy was soon turned into a quivering, sniffling mass of flesh huddled on the ground. The woman finshed with a kick to Sammy's midsection, much like the one he'd given Jane, then turned towards her.

"Oh Jesus..." Jane whispered. She dropped to her knees, looking for the bundle of money. "It's over here somewhere. I can find it. I didn't take it! I promise!"

"Jane."

Jane's head snapped up, crystal blue eyes wide at the mention of her name. How did this wonderful, terrifying woman know her name?

The woman reached up and drew the hood from her head. Auburn hair, and round glasses reflected the single street light at the mouth of the alley. The woman's expression was carefully neutral, but a small smile played at the corner of her lips.

Jane's mouth and throat went dry at the sight, and she fought to get the name out.

"Da...Daria..."

The smile disappeared, and Jane's heart leaped into her throat. The woman sighed audibly.

"No, Jane. I'm not the Green Jack-" She paused as she saw Jane's terrified expression. Her own expression softened. "I'm not Daria. My name is Judith."

"Oh," Jane said, looking at the ground. "You look like someone I used to know."

"I know." Judith said. She held out a hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Jane took Judith's hand and got to her feet. The two of them began walking out of the alley. As soon as they were on the street proper, Jane began rubbing her arms. Judith looked at her.

"Are you cold?"

Jane looked back at Judith. "No, I enjoy being out in thirty degree weather in sleeveless shirts and no panties. Makes me feel special."

Judith gave her a sardonic grin. "Now that's the Jane Lane I know. I think I have something in here from when I first got this thing. Let's see."

Judith stopped walking and Jane saw her arms moving under the cloak. After a moment, Judith parted the folds and drew out a long comfortable-looking black woolen trenchcoat. She wrapped it around Jane and cinched the belt, once Jane's arms were in the sleeves. It was slightly larger than it needed to be, but Jane didn't care. The coat was warm and comforting and she enjoyed feeling it fold around her.

Judith smiled again. "You like that? Thirty-three Mallow Sheep gave up their coats for that thing."

Jane blinked. "Mallow Sheep?"

"Picture a giant baa-ing marshmallow with fur and you'll get a general idea. Weird damn things, but softest fur in the multiverse. Great for coats."

Jane gave Judith a wary look.

"Hey," Judith replied. "Don't look at me, I didn't make the place."

"What do you want?" Jane asked. Judith turned to face her and frowned as Jane instinctively flinched.

"I want you to stop." Judith answered.

"Stop?"

Judith waved a hand at Jane. "What you're doing. Stop it. It's not right."

Jane let out a rueful laugh. "Wish it were that easy. I don't know if you get the news in the Land of the Mallow Sheep,but in case you hadn't noticed, the economy imploded and there isn't much out there for failed professional artists, job wise."

"What about that priest Ass Assholesson was babbling about back there?"

"Father Michael? He barely has enough funds from the Church to keep what few social programs he can running. I wish he could help me. But he's got his hands full these days. All I wanted from him were some contacts to try to get me out of town, but he says there isn't much job-wise anywhere else either. I actually felt bad that he felt bad, if that makes any sense."

Judith didn't respond but walked along the street in thought. "You were hoping he could help you?"

"Yeah,' Jane answered, "he's got a reputation for getting girls like me out of the life, but of late, he's not getting any help outside of the few bucks the Church can spare. Nobody with any clout or power sees the point. Especially us, since half our damn clients are the fucking politicians who could do something about it."

"How busy is he, exactly?"

"St. Stephen's is a small parish. He's the only full time priest they have. So he pretty much has to hold services, do the paperwork, run the soup kitchen, the advice center, and a million other things that people are flocking to the church for."

"I see." Judith paused and looked across the street. "That it?"

Jane blinked and looked up. Across the street was St. Stephen's, the glow from the stained glass windows the only splotch of real color in the sodium lamp lit streets. A marquee was set up on the sidewalk. Jane smiled at the message posted on it: "God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts."

"He's got quite a turn of phrase," Judith commented, "First one of those I've seen that doesn't come off as completely sanctimonious and self-serving."

"Yeah," Jane turned back to Judith. "Why are we here again?"

"We're getting you out of the life." Judith held up the bundle of cash she'd had in the alley. "This is ten thousand dollars. From the looks of things, it won't solve your problems, but it should give you a leg up on them. Enough to start over anyway. I'd give you more, but this is all the cash I have on me and I don't think I'm going to be back this way again."

Jane reached out her hand, and hesitated, looking at Judith again. Judith's expression was neutral, but Jane was sure she saw something in her eyes. Compassion, yes, but also something else. Something hard, cold, and dead.

"You don't trust me." A statement.

"I-I'm sorry, but you look so much like her and I want to trust you but-"

Judith closed her eyes and smirked, shaking her head slightly. "It's okay. It shows you're just as smart as you always were." She looked back up at Jane.

"I'm no saint, Jane. I've done horrible, evil things. I've killed people, I've threatened children, and pretty much done everything but go right up to God himself and kick Him right in the balls.

"But, despite all that, there is one thing I have never done. I have never hurt you, Jane. I admit that there have been times I was forced to kill you, but I always made sure it was quick and as painless as possible."

Jane's eyes widened at the casual admission of guilt. Judith was calm and clinical about what she'd done, and Jane had no doubt she was telling the truth.

"Who ARE you?"

Judith smiled again. "I'm Judith. And while I don't expect you to believe this next part, I will tell you that I jump from parallel universe to parallel universe, working on...something. I am an alternate version of Daria Morgendorffer, and while I can't stand the Green Jacketed Snot Nosed Bitch in any of the universes I visit, I do have exactly one thing in common with all of them."

Judith stepped forward, placed her hands on either side of Jane's head, then drew her close and kissed her softly, gently, on the lips. Jane's eyes almost popped out of her head, but soon closed as the tenderness and warmth of the kiss spread through her body. It had been so long since anyone had kissed her like that, not wanting to posess her, but to reassure her that she was loved.

It was over all too soon.

Judith, her face flushed, smiled again at Jane. "We all love you, Jane."

She stepped back and drew the hood back up over her face. "Maybe you should see if you and the priest can help each other. Good luck."

She reached up and gripped something under the collar of the cloak. Jane blinked as there was a flash of blue-white light. And then she was alone on the street.

Jane shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her brain. As she did so, she realized that Judith had somehow placed the bundle of cash in her hand. Jane stared at it, then at the spot where Judith had been, then across the street at the church.

_Ten grand could do a lot of good. And maybe Father Michael can convince the Dioscese that he could use an assistant. _

Jane looked up at the cross on the roof of the church. Maybe it was time to rethink the whole religion thing too.

After all, she was pretty sure she had just been saved by an angel.

Sammy groaned as he rolled himself onto his back. Pain seared through every nerve ending, but he forced himself to ignore it. There was no way a short little bitch in some fancy ass cloak had managed to kick his ass so soundly. None.

He slowly got to his feet. It didn't feel like any of the major joints were broken, although he was pretty sure one shoulder was dislocated and nearly all his fingers were broken. He'd worry about finding a doctor later. First, he was going to find Jane and the bitch in the cape and teach them both a little lesson in manners. Then he was going to see how well Cape Girl stacked up to Jane in working matters. And then he was going to break her fucking-

A gunshot rang out from down the alley and Sammy's train of thought was cut off as his left knee exploded. He screamed and went down hard, clutching his left shin below the wound.

Judith stepped from the shadows, holding a 9mm pistol. She glared down at the pimp.

"You're just too damn stupid to stay down, aren't you?" she asked. She changed her grip on the pistol, holding it by the barrel and brought the butt down hard on the wound.

Sammy screamed again, and he let go of his leg, sprawling on the ground. The pain had rendered him immoble. Judith knelt down next to his head, and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Look at me."

Sammy forced himself to open his eyes, and stared in horror at the glowing ones eminating from the shadows of the hood. Judith slammed a fist into his chest, cracking the sternum and forcing the air out of his lungs. Sammy tried to inhale and cry out at the same time, but failed.

He tried again when Judith smiled and held up a large serrated knife with a ten inch blade, and gestured at his crotch.

"This is what happens when you fuck with MY girl." Judith said, quietly. She hit him again, and again Sammy tried to scream.

He kept trying to scream for the next hour before he finally passed out from the blood loss.


	6. I Want My Mummy

_**I Want My Mummy!**_

A Quinn and The Mummy Story by Doggieboy

(This takes place in the Judith Strikes! shared series)

"I can't come over tonight, Sandi," Quinn Morgendorffer said into her mobile phone. The redheaded teen laid on her back on her bed, her left knee propped up and her right leg crossed over that one. "I'm serious! Mom grounded me for a month after that date when Corey abandoned me at those warehouses. She nearly put me into a private school after he got shot right after that!" She nodded and said, "Well, she'll calm down sometime and I'll come right over. Bye!"

She turned off the phone and shuddered. She hadn't been totally truthful to Sandi, nor to anyone else outside of her mother and her sister, Daria. But she knew that she couldn't tell Sandi about how she had been there when Corey was shot, nor about how she had then been taken hostage. She closed her eyes and shuddered again as the memory of her top being torn open replayed itself in her mind.

She especially didn't want to - _couldn't_ - tell Sandi about her rescue from that predicament. It had been bad enough that she had to tell Daria and her parents, for her rescuer refused to leave her side all the way back home - and after that. Ammon was not only very protective, he was very persuasive as well.

The teen rolled onto her belly, then backed herself off the bed and stretched.

Then a bright light filled the bedroom and Quinn found herself briefly stunned. When her vision cleared, a woman in a red cloak and five men stood in a semi-circle around her. She blinked at the woman, recognized her and said, her voice uncertain, "Daria?"

The woman rushed forward and rammed her right fist into the girl's unprotected belly. Quinn grunted in pain and fell to her knees as she fought to keep from retching and two of the men grabbed her by her upper arms. Another man slapped one of his large ham-like hands over her mouth and the woman handed one of the men a digital camcorder. "Henry," she said, "I expect you to catch everything. Each man getting their turn, each punch and kick the two bitches get and every single scream in bloody color. You got it?"

"Well, what about my turn?" he asked quickly.

The woman's response was to quickly ram her hand up against his crotch and squeeze. "I asked you a question, Henry," she said.

As the man gasped out a shrill apology and affirmation, one man said, "I'll film your turn, Henry."

The woman gave him a brief smile and released the injured man. "I know that I can count on you, Malachi. Keep an eye on the newbies. I don't want them suddenly feeling pity and slacking off."

One man who had his hair combed back in a wave spoke up, "You don't have to worry about me slacking off, ma'am. What I want to know is that can I do both of them? I've got a lot of stand-up in me and a lot of aggression I want to take out on both the Morgendorffer girls."

The cloaked woman nodded and chuckled. "Odell, I expect you to prove that statement to me. Be...creative. But if you flag on me, I'll leave your ass in the middle of Mt. Erebus during an eruption."

Odell Jones blinked, but he smiled. "Let me get my hands on Daria Morgendorffer and I'll show you what creativity is, ma'am. I'll make her scream for hours...days even."

"Good man." She looked at each of them, her gaze lingering on each one. "I set up a dampening field around the house, so don't worry about their screams attracting any help. Remember the contest. The first one to get a Morgendorffer girl to scream loud enough to break glass gets the suitcase full of gold."

All five men smiled at that thought.

"Also remember the restrictions," the woman warned as she stared at them. "If either of them die before they've been properly...worked over, I'll _fire_ you, and you know what _that_ means."

All the men except Malachi shuddered.

"Finally...Jane Lane should NOT be here. But if she is, she is NOT to be touched. Malachi, you still have the dart gun?"

"Yes, Judith."

"Use it only if Jane is here." She then looked at Odell again. "You, especially, keep your hands off of Jane, or your last days will be very unpleasant."

Odell paled then. "I don't even _know_ a Jane Lane," he protested, his voice slightly weaker.

"Some of your counterparts do. I butchered one of them in the West Virginia woods where I caught up with him. He hurt the Jane of his universe."

Judith then turned and looked at her appointed leader. "I have an appointment to keep at Lawndale High School. If you hear explosions from there...ignore them." She touched her locket.

Then there was a flash of light and the woman vanished.

Malachi turned to the men holding Quinn. "Release her mouth and get her on her feet," he ordered. Henry turned on the camcorder and aimed the camera at the girl.

The girl gulped in air as she was forced to her feet and looked at the leader fearfully.

He drew back a heavily muscled right forearm and savagely backhanded the girl's face. The force of the blow drew blood from her lips and she cried out in pain.

The men holding her arms quickly pulled her to her bed and forced her to bend over at the edge of the mattress. One of them took hold of both of her arms, while the other moved around behind her and reached around to the front of her blue jeans.

"No!" she cried out. "Stop it!"

The man ignored her as he opened her jeans and pulled the garment down her kicking legs.

"Ahhhh," Odell said. "Look at the cute little hearts on her panties."

Henry filmed the girl's backside and said, "Give her something to really scream about, Odell."

The man from West Virginia leered at Quinn and stood on the other side of the mattress where she could see him. He then kicked off his shoes, opened his pants and dropped them to his ankles. "This is going to be the longest night of your life, girlie."

The redhead gawked at the half-naked man, drew in her breath and screamed as loud as she could, "AMMON!"

**********

Judith looked down the dark and empty school hallway and cleared her throat at the memories as they replayed in her mind. She spat on the clean floor tiles and grimaced at the taste of bile. "O.K.," she muttered. "Now where would that Asian bitch hide that sash?"

A small red light from a hidden security camera shone on the cloaked woman and she stopped; quickly she pulled a small device that resembled a remote control and pushed a green button. A small electromagnetic pulse radiated out from her position about fifteen feet, enough to fry the camera's delicate circuitry, as well as that of a nearby vending machine and the computers in the classroom to her left.

Then a small metal cannister skittered across the tiles to stop near her feet. As a white mist shot out and spread around, Judith smiled. "Oh, now _that's_ a classic," she said. "Tear gas. At lest she knows I'm here."

The cloaked woman ignored the gas and moved through the mist towards the school offices. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she said, her voice lilting in a slight sing-song tone.

Then the form came out of the shadows to her left and Judith quickly blocked a kick and spun to face her attacker, her body ready in a fighting stance.

She blocked two more kicks and then grabbed her attacker by the left arm and tossed her around to her right.

Angela Li landed on her feet and quickly turned to face Judith. She was clothed completely in black, except for her face from her nose to her eyebrows. "I've been waiting for you to show up," she said, her voice low and almost gutteral. "Since I was told you were coming."

Judith frowned and thought, _The sash - it warned her about me. She's activated it._

"You know what that means?" Li asked.

Judith tightened her left fist and relaxed her leg muscles.

"You're going to die," the older woman said and chuckled.

Judith jumped forward.

**********

"Ammon?" Malachi asked. "Who the hell is Ammon?"

"I thought her sister's name was Daria," Odell said and scratched himself.

Quinn looked away from Odell; the man who had pulled her pants down grabbed her hair and jerked her head back up.

"Look at him, bitch!"

They heard running footsteps and the men smiled in anticipation. Malachi clenched his right hand into a fist and said, "Get behind her, Odell. When I bust the other girl's mouth, you start on red here." He pulled his fist back. "Make it as painful as you can."

"I always do," Odell said and moved behind Quinn. He moved his right big toe into the back of her right knee and pushed in hard enough to get a cry of pain from her.

Malachi's fist was in the right position to punch someone in the mouth, if they were just barely over five feet tall. He had done it before and felt his excitement build up as she got closer.

When the footsteps reached the doorway, the gang leader swung his fist hard and hit a solid layer of stone-hard flesh and tissue. He gasped in sudden and unexpected pain; all five looked up in shock at the intruder.

He stood at more than six feet tall and at first appeared to be a mixture of white and gray tones, which on closer inspection revealed itself to be gauze. "Princess?" he yelled as he spied Quinn in her bound position.

"Defend me, Ammon!" she ordered.

Ammon immediately grabbed Malachi's right fist and squeezed it. The man's shrieks of pain and terror filled the room; they mixed with the sounds of breaking finger and hand bones.

"GETITOFFME!" the lead thug screamed. "GETITOFFME!"

The man holding Quinn's arms released her, grabbed a metal club attached to his belt and jumped towards the mummy. He swung the club at the mummy's head and the connection sounded as loud as a whipcrack. Its only result, however, was that the undead man glared at him, unaffected by the hit.

"Is that the best you can do, brigand? Let me show you what _I_ can do." He tossed Malachi to his left; the man hit the dresser and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Ammon then grabbed his second attacker by his right arm and drew his own right arm back. His right hand formed into a fist.

"No!" the man said right before the fist rammed into his face. His head whipped back quickly, the sound of breaking vertebrae and facial bones loud and unmistakable.

The mummy dropped the man, who fell to the floor dead. "Who is next?" He saw Odell and his half-naked state, then saw that Quinn's underwear was exposed. "Rapist! Your death will be painful!"

"Stay away from me!" Odell cried out as he backed up against the wall.

Ammon ran around the bed and grabbed the man's throat with his left hand. As he lifted the whining man with his right hand, the man who had pulled Quinn's hair pulled a pistol out of his jacket and aimed it at the back of the mummy's head.

Another pistol roared from the doorway; Quinn and the cameraman turned to see Daria Morgendorffer standing there, a smoking revolver in her hands. The gunman was hit in the middle of his back and the front of his shirt was now decorated in a widening red spot. He collapsed on the floor and Quinn quickly moved away from the bed. She pulled up her jeans as she did so.

Then Daria turned her attention to the cameraman.

Ammon saw that the princess's sister had the other man covered and turned his attention back to Odell. "Do you know what I do to rapists, brigand?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're saying!" the terrified man cried out as he tried to pry the hand on his throat loose.

The mummy grabbed the man's exposed manhood, gripped it tightly and pulled his hand back quickly. As the sounds of tearing flesh combined with an unholy scream, he said, "This is what I do."

Quinn saw the sudden spurt of blood from Odell's midsection, staggered over to her trashcan and fell to her knees as she vomited into it.

**********

Judith bounced off the lockers and immediately gave Angela Li a roundhouse punch that caught the would-be ninja off guard.

She staggered back and the red-cloaked woman rushed in, then mashed her right foot into the Asian woman's left instep. At the same time, she grabbed a device from inside her cloak the size of a pickle jar lid and slapped it onto her opponent's forehead.

Suddenly the black-garbed woman jerked as a sudden and rapid jolt of electricity shot through her body. She jerked several more times as she moved away from Judith, then she collapsed onto her back. Her body convulsed as smoke rose from her at several different points.

"So that's why they call that an agonizer," Judith said as she watched Angela Li's body continue its convulsions. She removed the device and replaced it inside her cloak, then pulled out a .357-Magnum revolver and cocked it. "I'm still going to give you a double tap...just to be sure."

She fired the pistol into the downed woman's head twice, then replaced the weapon back into her smock. Without another look, she stepped over the woman's remains and pulled another device out of her cloak. It looked like a tricorder from the set of a _Star Trek_ series, but it gave off a small alarm and a series of readings.

_Warning! Force Field Activated Around Premises!  
Nature of Field - Alchemical  
Time Until Field Dispersal - 53:20_

Judith frowned and muttered, "Shit!" She looked back at Li's still smoking body. "You lousy bitch! What else did you activate!"

The woman moved on to the offices and the monitor then sent out another alert.

_Warning! Sentient Alchemical Device Ahead!  
Destination from Scanner - Seven Feet_

"That idiot," Judith muttered. "She didn't just activate the sash - she sacrificed herself to it."

Then she pulled a glowing sword out from within her cloak and whirled around as the burned and shot remains of Angela Li dove through the air towards her. Before she could use the sword, the dead woman landed in front of her opponent in a crouch and said, "Did you really think I am that easy to kill? You fool."

"Oh, hell," Judith muttered and backed up slightly, the sword ahead of her ready.

**********

Daria cocked her pistol again as she faced the cameraman. She raised her right eyebrow as the man dropped the camera and reached for his own weapon, holstered on his right side. "Too late, pervert," she said and shot him in the chest. The man fell to his knees, looked at her in angered confusion and then fell face down on the floor.

Ammon gently helped Quinn back to her feet as her heaves subsided. "My princess, did they hurt you?"

The redhead took several deep breaths and wiped her mouth with facial tissue. She looked at her protector and said, "I am well, thank you."

The mummy seemed to smile. "Your accent is still off. We must work on that."

Daria moved to each man and held her pistol ready in her right hand as she checked for pulses with her other hand. The sight of the half-naked man's mangled crotch made her wince, but she checked for his pulse as well. "Dead," she muttered and looked at his face again. "There's something about you that gives me the creeps, and it's not what Ammon did, either."

Then she checked Malachi's carotid artery and pulled her left hand back quickly. "Ammon!"

"Step back," he ordered the auburn haired girl and crouched beside the unconscious man. Daria moved back as he grabbed the man's head with both hands, and quickly twisted it to the right. The noise of breaking bones sounded like a gunshot and the body twitched briefly. "He no longer breathes."

Daria looked around the bedroom at the scattered bodies and exhaled loudly. "How in the hell are we going to explain _this_ to Mom and Dad? Explaining Ammon to them was bad enough."

Quinn shook her head and said, "Daria, that's not important right now! There's one more person in this gang - a woman! She looked like you!"

"What?"

The redhead sat on the edge of her bed and crossed her arms over her midriff. "I called her by your name and she went off and punched me. That nearly made me throw up then."

Daria looked at her silently, then at Ammon. She opened her pistol and removed the spent shells, then replaced them with fresh ones.

The mummy saw her actions and moved to the closet. He opened the door and retrieved an AK-47. He checked to make sure that it was ready for use and looked at Daria. "There is still danger to the princess, am I right?"

The only word Daria understood was "danger", so she nodded and said, "Yes." _I need to work on my Heratic,_ she thought.

The mummy guided the two girls out of the bedroom and led them towards their parents' room. "Wait here. I will stand guard until it is safe."

Daria nodded and closed the bedroom door.

Ammon moved to the top of the stairway and held the weapon ready in his right hand.

**********

Judith slashed at her opponent and jumped forward at a right oblique to avoid being hit by the dead woman's burnt fingernails.

Angela Li's left forearm and hand fell to the floor, but the Asian ignored her injury and pressed on her attack.

_This is getting ridiculous!_ Judith thought as she swung the sword at the woman's midsection. The cut was true and the blade went halfway through the belly, but all the happened was that partially cooked intestines was exposed.

"I'm going to feed these to you," the dead woman said, "and watch you gag to death."

Judith then grabbed another device from within her cloak and aimed it at Li. A sudden burst of intense white-hot flame engulfed the dead principal and she roared as she was consumed.

For nearly a minute, the cloaked woman stood back as the flames burned at the body. Finally, all that was left was a small pile of ashes and the flames died away to nothing.

Then she looked at the forearm, which still laid where it had fallen. Bits and pieces of the ashes moved of their own accord over the floor tiles towards the arm and before Judith's eyes the body started to rebuild itself.

She looked at the monitor.

_Time Until Field Dispersal - 48:38_

"This is going to be irritating," she muttered as she engulfed the arm in white-hot flames. "Those idiots better be getting me a good show to watch later."

**********

With a sound that resembled an egg timer, the monitor let Judith know that the force field Li had set up had faded. "Finally!"

She looked at the burned remains that she had burned nearly twenty-five times over the previous fifty minutes. "You are the biggest pain in the ass that I've had to deal with in some time, bitch!" She opened a portal above the ashes. "We'll see how well you rebuild yourself in the lava of Mauna Loa."

The ashes vanished into the portal and she closed it off, then looked around the hallway. The tiles had warped from the heat itself and the nearby lockers were badly burned. She snorted at the sight and walked into Li's office.

A red sash laid atop the principal's desk and the woman pulled both a black silk bag and a thick factory worker's glove out of her cloak. She donned the glove, picked up the sash and tensed as she felt it vibrate in her hand. Quickly, she placed the item inside the bag, opened a portal and sent the bag ahead of her. She sighed in relief and said, "Now to check on my working crew. After that workout, hearing some screaming and begging will calm my nerves."

She touched her locket and vanished again in a flash of light.

**********

Ammon waited patiently atop the stairs and only tensed as he saw the red-cloaked woman suddenly appear just inside the front door. He noticed both her catsuit and her resemblance to the princess's sister.

"No screams?" she asked in confusion and looked up the stairs. She immediately noticed Ammon and a small smile appeared on her face. "How quaint," she said. "A mummy with a machine gun. Go away, _Kharis_, or I'll burn your nuts off."

"Go away, witch, or I will kill you like I killed your brigands."

"Aw," she then said as her smile widened. "You speak Heratic - and quite well, too, if I got your words right. Well, you're too bulky to be that idiot Dewitt-Clinton, and that moron Thompson can't even speak English good enough, let alone any other language. You must be one of the special ones - like Fulton or Peters - or Rawlings." The last name was spoken with a sneer, for the former Confederate officer had nearly killed her during her conflict with _his_ Daria.

The mummy aimed the weapon at her and said, "Leave now, dog, or die like one."

Judith held up her left hand and showed him the device that she flamed Angela Li's remains. "I warned you," she said.

Ammon pulled the assault rifle's trigger. The AK-47 was set on full automatic and the weapon emptied itself directly into the woman's chest and belly. The force of the impact threw her back against the front door. She gasped in pain as she slid to the floor. She pushed the device's button as she slid down, however.

Flames engulfed the mummy and he roared in both pain and fury. He dropped the weapon and beat at the flames.

Judith gasped as her breath returned to her. She touched her belly and winced. _That is going to leave a definite bruise._ Then she stood back up fully as she stared at the flaming mummy. "Farewell, _Kharis_. Try to burn down the house while you're at it."

Then she touched her locket and vanished in the flash of light.

Daria rushed out of the bedroom with a fire extinguisher and sprayed the burning mummy with the CO-2 until it finally ran out.

The flames died away and steam rose from the mummy as he looked at Daria. "Thank you."

The auburn-haired teen's expression was numb as she looked at him, then at the damage to the carpet, walls and stairs. "How are we going to explain all this damage to Mom and Dad?"

Ammon looked at her and turned to check on Quinn.

-FIN-


	7. Judith Strikes Highland

JUDITH STRIKES HIGHLAND!

By Charles RB

It was an awesome day. They'd managed to find a whole four – better, three crickets! Whomph! Fire! Yay!

And then, whoa, cool! This building, like, went BOOOOM!

"That was hardcore!" said Daria.

"Heh heh, yeah!" chuckled Quinn. "Hey, you think something else will go up next?"

"Hur hur, that'd rock! Maybe it'd, like, be the gas station and then it could, y'know, make other things go-" She made an explosion gesture and a flatulent sound.

"Heh heh heh heh, that sounded like a fart!"

"Yeah! Hur hur hur!"

Then this totally badass looking dudette in a red cloak showed up with, like, this huuuuuuuuge gun thing!

Daria stared in awe. "Duuuuuuuuuuuude."

"Yeah, that's... whooooaaaaaa."

"Hey, lady, can we, like, borrow it? We want to... do some helpful... chores. Like, that car down there is totally parked wrong, we should get rid of it!" Daria mimed shooting. "Kprrrrr! Boooom!"

The red chick was now pointing the gun at Daria, and she could like see inside it and all!

"Hey, Quinn, look! There's, like, some red stains in here!"

"Heh heh! That's cool!"

"Hey, lady, you're like one of those..." She struggled to remember the term. "See... Eye... Gay enforcers? Hur hur hur hur, I said gay."

"Heh heh heh heh heh!"

Then the chick just grinned and said: "Oh, I don't think you should have the _mercy_ of death." (Whoa, words? Must be some brain or something. Bleurh!)

Then she vanished! Poof! (Hur hur, poof)

"Hey, Daria, let's find some slugs!"

"Hur hur, yeah, burning slugs is cool!"


	8. Cat Scratch Fever

_Cat Scratch Fever___

A '_Judith Strikes!__' fic by Brother Grimace_

(Note: This fic takes place in the _Falling Into College__ universe.)_

Never interfere in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and would taste good with catsup.  
- Anonymous

The red cloak that the woman who called herself Judith owned was a wondrous thing; for those who knew of such things, it had many similarities with that artifact known as a _Bag of Holding._

Actually, possessing some actual sense of self and purpose (if not actually sentient), the cloak was almost at the level of an exceptionally well-trained pet – which meant that, occasionally, Judith would send the cloak off on its own to perform… certain duties.

Tonight was such a night.

While Judith amused herself by going to Lawndale, Maryland (and ordering a meal from the _Good Time_ Chinese restaurant, knowing that her presence near the trans-dimensional portal in the back would ring a lot of alarms, as this reality was watched over carefully) – her cloak silently moved across the darkened yard of the Morgendorffer-Fulton home in Williamstown, Virginia.

It had been given a mission of its own to fulfill this night.

A flood of scarlet fiber poured beneath the front door and rose up in the small, unlit hall. The cloak actually appeared to ape its mistress as it looked about the area, and then moved down the hall as it seemed to home in on the bedroom of Daria Morgendorffer and her husband, Michael Fulton-

A tiny, mewling cry caused the cloak to divert its attention to the front room – where a small, tortoise-shell cat was hissing out alarmed sounds as it backed away. "**MEW! MEW! MEW! MEW! MEW!"** _Ugly, mean cloth! Ugly, mean – go away!_

The cloak made a motion that - where it a human being - would have certainly been slumping its shoulders in resignation. The cloak shuddered slightly, and then, began to move into the living room-

A second feline voice exploded from the night! "MRROOWWWRRLL!" _GET HIM!_

Three tiny blurs of fur and claws sprang out from different directions in the darkness, and the cloak found itself being brought down to the soft carpet as the small cat joined in on the fray.

The cloak began to thrash about, enveloping several small, whirling forms of destruction inside itself – but jagged, gaping tears began to appear all along its length; it rolled about the living room, knocking over an end table and smashing the lamp that sat on top as the sounds of furious felines filled the night air…

*****

Two hours later, after enjoying an excellent meal of Siamese chicken, Crab Rangoon and a roll in the back of the van that a 22-year-old Kevin Thompson now owned (_and God, has he kept himself in shape,_ she sighed as she got dressed) Judith stood beside the Giant Strawberry when the cloak appeared in a flash of blue light.

"Well?" she asked, as the cloak – now lacerated as if someone had taken a shredder to it, with gaping holes across its entire length – wrapped itself around Judith, only to have the petite woman immediately recoil and toss it away. "My God! What is that scent – you smell like the litter box at Jane's house – what the hell happened to you?"

The cloak darted behind the Giant Strawberry, actually shuddering as Judith's eyes narrowed – but from her expression of anger, or something else, she couldn't tell. "Did you do it? Did you kill the Daria here?"

Judith watched as the cloak seemed to turn itself inside out, reforming and repairing itself, appearing brand-new as it quivered once more before going back to its mistress. "Well? Did you off Miss Bliss, and leave her body so that her husband takes the blame? WELL?"

A shriek of disbelief tore from Judith's lips as she began to disappear in a blister of blue light; she looked down to see that the cloak had reached out with a corner and activated her locket. "WHAT? What happened to you over-?"

*****

"Hey, Daria – I thought that you didn't like sushi pizza!"

"That's your poison of choice, Jane," Daria Morgendorffer said, frowning as Jane Lane catapulted past her into the house the moment that she withdrew her key from the door lock. "Not even Michael's crazy friends in his grad school eat that."

"Yeah, well, someone had sushi pizza in here – and within the hour!" Jane said, wrinkling her nose as she walked through the darkness – and bumped into a chair. "Turn the lights on, already!"

"I'd say that the only place that the lights are off is in your head, Jane," Daria snarked, reaching for a switch on the wall. "Sushi pizza. Didn't you just desecrate the 'surf and turf' at the restaurant?"

The light in the hall came on, and the two young women saw four cats – Daria's cats Bump and Sissy, and Jane's cats Taylor and Zachary – all lying in a comfortable pile in the middle of the immaculate living room, with only the occasional thump of a tail on the soft carpet to greet them as Daria crossed the room to turn on a lamp that sat on the end table.

"That's odd," Daria observed. "That lamp's a bit brighter than usual…"

"Whoa. Looks like someone pigged out!" Jane said, leaning down to stroke the snout of the slender Blue Point Siamese that had raised a front paw as if to greet her. "Hey, Taylor – looks like someone was eating good tonight…"

Zachary, the Domestic Shorthair with bright-yellow fur mixed with white stripes, lifted his round, heavy head and meowed for attention as Taylor rolled over, playing with Jane's fingers before the young woman began to stroke Zachary's stomach. "Yeah – you had a really good meal, too," she wondered aloud, "and I can still smell the tomato sauce on your paws."

"Meeeoooowwwllll," Taylor half-breathed, half-meowed at his brother. _Messy eater. You've always been a messy eater._

The yellow cat turned his head towards Taylor and sneezed, making him frown as Bump rose up and went to Daria, stroking against her ankles as she purred loudly. "Hello, your Grace – and aren't we friendly tonight?" Daria asked, smiling as she lifted Bump to her face, and the cat battered at a lock of Daria's hair with a tiny, white left front paw. "I think somebody enjoyed having visitors they could play with."

"Meowwww… rrrorrrrr… mrrrooolllrrr…" Bump breathed out, tapping at Daria's nose. _More than you know – having backup here helped out some, too – and what you don't know won't hurt you._

Sissy came bounding over to Daria just as Michael Fulton – holding a large take out bag from the Pear Harvest restaurant the three had gone to after seeing a movie earlier that evening – walked through the door, and without a moment's hesitation, the small cat shifted course and went for him, crying out loudly as she bounced happily around Michael's feet. "Mew! Mew! Mew! Mew!" _More tasty __people food__! What did you bring me? What did you bring me?_

Lifting her head from Daria's shoulder, Bump looked down as her sister, and even Michael could hear the admonition in the older cat's tone. "MEOW. Meow!" _Geez, Sissy – stop being such a kitten! You act like your eyes just opened last night!_

Jane laughed as Sissy – showing amazing agility – bounded back and forth between Michael's legs as he walked into the kitchen, ignoring her sister as she openly begged for something from the 'doggie bag'. "Mew! Mew! Mew!" _They brought back crab cakes! They brought us crab cakes! I __love__ crab cakes!_

Daria set Bump down, and a sharp, forceful cry erupted from her the moment her human's hands left her soft coat of fur. "MEOW." _Get over here – __right now__._

Taylor turned to watch as Sissy caught herself in mid-bounce and went to her sister, passing Jane as the raven-haired woman followed Daria into the kitchen. "Oh, yeah," Jane said, breathing in deeply as she crossed the threshold. "It smells like someone spent some money on their sushi pizza, too!" Jane spoke up. "I can smell calamari… and a bit of eel sauce… oh, that smells like the 'Eighty-Eight Pizza' that they serve at the _Lords of 'Za_ that – well, that I went to in Manhattan."

Michael picked a small piece of crab from a crab cake, blew on it for a moment and then held his hand town; as Sissy ran back into the kitchen and eagerly took the tasty tidbit from his fingers, Michael watched the way his wife's right eyebrow raised up, as well as how Jane's face colored slightly while her face tweaked into a smile – a smile that bespoke her playfully randy nature.

"So, Jane… who'd you take a trip to New York with?" Daria asked, unable to keep the smile from her face or her voice.

"I didn't take a trip anywhere with anyone!" Jane insisted. "I met him there."

Daria's eyebrow raised even more. "_Met __who__?"_

Jane's face colored as a sudden look of remembrance flew across her best friend's face. "Wait a minute – I remember you talking about looking up places that make them on line – that pizza's expensive!" Daria blurted out. "Three hundred and – NO."

Jane dropped her head – but more to hide the twinkle in her eye than any shame. "You met Tom Sloane in New York!" Daria exclaimed. "No – _you __did__ Tom Sloane in New York!"_

"Well, we did eat first," Jane said, as Daria burst out in laughter – laughter that was immediately silenced as Michael said, "Hey – look at _that."_

The two women went to the kitchen window, and were silent as they saw the containers for the garbage on the side of the street, ready for collection in the morning. "Oh, my," Daria said, noticing how the lid of one of the containers was askew… and how the street light overhead illuminated the object carelessly tossed inside, holding the lid up.

_The edge of a __Lords of 'Za__ pizza box._

The three humans looked away from the window to look at one another… and then, slowly turned around to see the four cats watching them from the living room… all sitting primly next to one another, as innocent as could be.

"You can almost _see_ the halos over their heads," Michael finally said, after a full minute had passed. "We don't want to know what happened here tonight – do we?"

"All I have to say is this," Jane spoke, watching as Zachary began to wash his right front paw. "I'm just glad that they're on our side."

"More like we're on _theirs__,_ Jane," Daria echoed, as Bump walked slowly into the kitchen, and purred as she rubbed against Daria's ankles once more. "Definitely on _theirs_."

**END**


	9. Tidings of Comfort and Joy

_**TIDINGS OF COMFORT AND JOY**_

by Brian Taylor

Professor Amy Morgendorffer inked the last grade onto the last page of her last term paper of the fall semester at Fielding Preparatory Academy. She brushed a stray lock of hair from in front of her eyes, turned her attention to the parcel on one corner of her desk wrapped precisely with holly-and-ivy-print paper, and smiled.

Through the window over her desk, she watched as snow fell lightly on the hallowed grounds of Lawndale County's oldest and most revered educational facility. (Not that that meant much, she sometimes considered, except that Fielding could ask for - and receive - more money for educational services rendered.) A thin dusting of powdery ice settled into the trimmed hedges, onto the winding concrete paths and the old-style gaslights positioned along some of the paths.

A tapping at the door, quiet and hesitant, drew her out of her reverie. "Go away," she said with a certain ironic inflection. "There's nobody here but us professors."

"Um, Professor Morgendorffer?"

"Yes?"

"It's Paula, Professor Morgendorffer. Paula Kinsey?"

"Ah." Amy swiveled around in her chair to face the door. "My favorite student. Who's there?"

"It's me?" Paula Kinsey quietly opened the door and stepped through. She was a slight figure of fifteen, narrow in her blazer and checked skirt, still uneasy in the Fielding skin even as her first semester at the academy ground to a close. Amy had liked her at first sight. A semester of class discussions had merely reinforced the impression, even if she was plainly and painfully nervous. The door closed behind her with a faint click.

"I know that," said Amy with an amused smirk. "What can I for you do, Paula?"

"Um I was just wondering if you'd, um - "

"If I'd graded your term paper yet so you could find how out badly you bombed it before going home for Christmas?"

Paula nodded.

"Well, pull one up and let's see what we can find." Amy gestured to the small upholstered chair to the left of her desk. It took a long second for the woman to realize the girl hadn't moved from the doorway. "The chair's not gonna bite you, Paula." She paused for effect. "It's already eaten this week."

"Is that what happened to Randy de Groot?" Paula finally shuffled over to the seat by the desk and slumped into it.

"Little bastard had it coming when he started making jokes about his Moby Dick," offered Amy agreeably. "All right, let's see here. Kinsey, Kinsey, Kinsey." She picked up the papers and began to sift through them. "Cavanagh, no... Ruttheimer, _hell_ no..." She shuddered.

"What's that?" Paula gestured to the wrapped package.

"Government-issued plutonium." Amy didn't even miss a beat. "I'm going to use it to start a nuclear reactor here on campus."

"Isn't it dangerous?"

"Kids today." Amy sighed dramatically. "Absolutely no sense of humor at all. Rifkin, no. Beaumont, definitely no." Amy kept shuffling through the papers. "No, it's a Christmas gift for my daughter - well, my stepdaughter."

"What is it?"

"That," said Amy, nodding her head towards the parcel, "is a box containing a first edition of one of her very favorite books. We used to read it together when she was little. And this," she said, slipping an essay out of the stack with the smooth rustle of paper on paper, "is a first edition of 'The Use of Red in _Ethan Frome_' by one Paula Nancy Kinsey." She passed the essay over to the girl. "A-. Not too bad, kiddo. We'll make a literary critic out of you yet."

Paula flipped through her paper to the last page. She stared at the red-inked grade underneath the final paragraph for a very long, very relieved moment. "Really?"

"No," said Amy. "That belongs to some other Paula Nancy Kinsey. You know how many other girls are running around Fielding with that name. I must have confused you with one of them. Better give it back. I'm sure we'll find your crummy F around here somewhere." She held out one hand in mock expectation.

"No, that's okay." Paula folded the paper twice and slid it into her blazer's pocket. "I'll take it."

"I thought you might." Amy looked back up from her desk. "So, now that you know you're not in mortal danger of failing American Lit, what are your exciting plans for the holiday? Planning on torturing your family, I trust?"

"Not... really. I was thinking about sleeping in and playing Nintendo games."

"I admire your ambition, Paula."

"What about you, Professor Morgendorffer?"

"I," Amy said with a faint smile, "am going to blow my stepdaughter's mind with the book inside this box." She patted it gingerly. "I had to have this shipped in specially from a dealer in Britain after running up hundreds of dollars in long distance calls to make sure he actually had it, never mind the cost of having it shipped here in time for the big day. But it's going to be worth it to see her face on Christmas morning." Amy paused, considering how much else to say. "And after the holidays, we're going to go and visit her mother. It's been a while, and while she'll never say it, I'm pretty sure Daria misses her."

"Daria is your stepdaughter's name?"

"Daria is my stepdaughter's name, yes."

"How old is she?"

"Turned ten last month."

"Where does her mother live?"

The extra moment of silence between Paula's question and Amy's answer told her that she'd probably asked an unfortunate question. "Caladan Cemetery," Amy finally said.

"Oh." Paula colored and looked away. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You couldn't know."

"Um, if you don't mind my asking..." Paula's voice was just above a whisper. "What happened?"

Amy kept her tone level. "It's a long story, kiddo, and not one fit for our last conversation before Christmas. I'll tell you what, though - you come back to see me in January, and if you still want to know, I'll tell you about the whole tragic mess then."

"You really don't have to tell me," said Paula, looking away from Amy and towards the worn carpet. "It was a stupid question."

"Hey, Paula?" The girl looked up. "Don't you listen to some of the mindless crap we teachers tell you kids? There's no such thing as a stupid question."

"That's not true."

"Okay," admitted Amy. "You've got me there. There are a lot of stupid questions. Randy de Groot asks most of them. Your question, however, was not a stupid question."

"Oh. Okay." Paula gestured to a framed picture on the desk. "Is that your family?" Three people standing in front of a tidy brick house. On one side, a tall, square-jawed man in a tailored suit. On the other side, Amy. Between them, a tiny nine-year-old girl with large round glasses. All of them were standing in front of a large, neat brick house and smiling to greater or lesser degrees.

"Nah," said Amy. "That picture came with the office. I just keep it because I like the ambience." Paula held her tongue. "Yeah, that's them."

"They look nice."

"Well, I like them, anyway." Amy stole a quick glance at the clock. 5:30. Nog o'clock in certain circles. "Most of the time. Tonight, Jake - Jake's my husband, by the way - is supposedly making some kind of stir-fry for dinner."

"That's good."

"If he doesn't stir-fry the kitchen. He means well, but he's a little restless without adult supervision." Amy winked for emphasis.

"Oh."

"So," said Amy. "I should really get going unless I want to be living out of a hotel for the duration. Enjoy the grade. Have a nice break. And see you in January?"

"Yes," said Paula. "Um, I just wanted to say…"

"Yes?"

"You're my favorite teacher, Professor Barksdale," she said in a low voice, so quiet it was barely audible over the background hum of the school's heating system. "Even if you did make me read _Ethan Frome_."

"Oh." Amy couldn't help but smile. "Well, thank you, Paula. Don't let the word get around, but you're my favorite student, too. Even if you didn't _**like**__ Ethan Frome_. Now, get the heck out of my office. Go home and torment your little brother already, for Chrissakes."

"I will," said Paula, and she smiled. "Merry Christmas, Professor Morgendorffer."

"Merry Christmas, Paula."

Paula departed, closing the door as gently as she'd opened it. Amy checked the clock again. 5:35. Time to go.

She snapped her briefcase shut. The desk light she turned off with a quick click. She made sure the term papers were re-stacked into a neat bundle on her desk blotter. As she was standing, tugging on her black woolen overcoat, there came another knock.

"Paula," she said, stooping to pick up her briefcase from where she'd set it down. "You're a good kid, but hand to God, if I don't leave soon we're going to be living out of that place with the giant clog in front for the next… six... months..." Amy quit talking in a hurry when she saw the figure in the doorway. A silhouette, short in stature, long in shadow, stood in the door.

"My favorite aunt." The silhouette stepped into the light. It turned out to be a young woman, nineteen or maybe twenty years of age. Her boots were thick and black. Her cloak was red. What little of her oval face could be seen under the heavy hood was flat and affectless, the mouth drawn into a cold sneer. "Who's she today?"

"Who are you? You didn't hurt Paula, did you? Because if you've done anything to my student, I'll - "

The intruder made a dismissive gesture. "Little Miss Insipid's fine. But if you happen to make any noises that might draw her attention from the hall, well..." The intruder raised a very large, very black handgun. "Anything can happen."

"What do you want?" Amy hadn't realized she'd started backing away from the figure until she felt the front of her desk press into the back of her thighs.

"I don't want to kill you." The young woman pointed the gun at Amy. From her vantage point, the barrel may as well have been a black hole. "I've always liked you more than most of the other drooling, venomous idiots of my acquaintance. Put the briefcase down. Let's talk like reasonable adults."

"Okay." So long as the gun was pointed at her, Amy didn't trust her voice's ability to utter words longer than one or two syllables. "Okay."

The intruder reached into the sleeve of her cloak. Her hand emerged clutching a small box, no larger than a credit card, with a blue light at one end glowing with an uncomfortable brilliance. "Do you see this?"

Amy nodded, stiff with endorphins and raw fear.

"Call this my guiding light. Right now, it's pointing me to that little package of yours."

"But it's a present for my - "

"Petulent little step-brat? I heard you the first time. Thing is, the universe is not a perfect machine. Wires sometimes cross. What should be isn't, and what shouldn't be turns up in a used bookstore in Notting Hill. Whatever you think this actually is, I assure you, it's actually mine. You can give it to me right now, or we can take the long way home."

The Intruder took a step forward. "'And what is the long way home,' she wonders, pissing herself in fear?" And another step forward. The gun pointed directly into Amy's face. The other woman was close enough her breath could be felt on Amy's neck. "Dad - I'm sorry, _Jake_ - will die first," she explained in a voice far too calm and indifferent for the words it was speaking. "A sawed-off double-barrel to his face should ensure it's over before he knows what hit him. Next, _Daria_."

The intruder smiled, lips pulled back like a wildcat set to pounce. "I don't normally delete children, not even when they're that snot-nosed little bitch, but in her case I'll make the exception. Every tool in my well-traveled kit will be used to prolong her suffering. And of course you'll watch every second of it."

"You - you - " Amy found that her mouth had stopped working.

"You have no idea. After she finally dies, pleading right up to the last for 'mommy' to make the pain stop? That's when I'll do you. Knives. Maybe fire. It wouldn't be the first time." The intruder smiled again, this time much more pleasantly. "Or you can just let me have the fucking package and we won't have to worry about any of that."

"Take it." Amy held the parcel out to the Intruder with trembling hands and without hesitation. Her voice wavered, and her cheeks were wet, but she told herself she wouldn't cry in front of this thing. "Whatever you want. Just... don't kill _her_."

"Thank you," said the Intruder, accepting the package with her free hand. "I have to say, Aunt Amy, I've always liked you more than mom. You've always been so much more… sensible."

Amy blinked. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"Oh, no. If I tell you that, you'll tell the cops, and the next thing you know I'll have to come back and make sure little Daria Judith doesn't live to see Christmas."

Amy swallowed but couldn't help a reflexive furrow of her brow. "Judith? But Judith isn't her -"

"On the other hand, why take unnecessary chances?" The Intruder pressed the large cold barrel of the gun to Amy's forehead. Amy shut her eyes involuntarily, mentally reciting oaths to every god she'd never believed in about all the things she'd do for them if they'd get her out of this and let her see home - see Jake, see _Daria_ - one more time. The trigger was pulled. The hammer fell.

Nothing happened.

When Amy opened her eyes again, the Intruder was standing there with a crooked, malicious grin. "Like I said," she said. "I don't want to kill you. Sometimes, it's more trouble than it's worth." The Intruder pulled the gun back from Amy's head. "Now, maiming, on the other hand..."

She brought the butt down on Amy's head hard enough to tear scalp and knock the older woman cold on the ground. "One or two maimings," said the Intruder to the unconscious woman, "are good for your soul." She smiled at her handiwork. She reached into her cloak and took hold of a small locket dangling from her neck.

With a flash of blue, the Intruder, the book, and the gun were all gone.

When Amy came to ten minutes later, the first thing she did was to instinctively call out for Daria. The second, while Nurse Dwyer knelt over her with smelling salts and Paula Kinsey stood behind the nurse with wide eyes and a face as white as the falling snow, was to explode into tears.

_**=END=**_


	10. Wraithkiller

**Judith Strikes! **

**Wraithkiller**

by Richard Lobinske

_Lawndale, unidentified Earth within the Lost Ringbearer Interdict Zone_

"Sorry, Ian, but don't worry. You and Anastasia are going to appreciate getting your old rings back in the future," Judith said as she removed a tarnished, copper ring from the severed hand she held. "And you'll be happy little Ringwraiths."

The woman in the red cloak kicked the bloody body that the hand had belonged to. Then, she tilted her head up and said, "I love the smell of paradox in the morning. It smells like vengeance."

The ancient locket hanging at Judith's neck flashed blue-white. She glanced down with a smile. "So the Green-Jacketed, Snot-Nosed Bitch is in town. Not only will those Agency assholes be pissed off at me being here, snuffing her out will be a bonus. Plus and plus."

Only a touch of will form her told the locket to transport Judith to near her alternate's location. She vanished in a blue flash and reappeared near a cluster of wrecked Abrams tanks and Bradley fighting vehicles. Dead soldiers were spread on the ground in and around the vehicle remains. "Damn, looks like I missed part of the fun."

Judith jumped up onto the back deck of a Bradley and surveyed the area. Finally, she spotted her target: a young woman with close-cropped, auburn hair and firearm safety glasses wearing an olive-drab jumpsuit and field jacket. "A bit of a change, but you've still got a green jacket."

Hand resting on a katana stored in an extra-dimensional pocket inside the cloak, Judith sped herself up relative to normal time and strode over to her target. Drawing the blade, she smirked, walked behind the woman and slashed low to hamstring her.

The _Vengeance Ring_ on the finger of the Daria Morgendorffer known as _Wraithkiller_ warned her of the danger. Instantaneously, she put up both the force field from the ring and a telekinetic shield while diving to the side and away from the yet unseen attacker.

"You snot-nosed bitch!" Judith yelled as she returned to normal time.

Rising to her feet, Daria calmly and slowly said, "Bitch? You have no idea.

"Yes, I do," Judith said, lowering the cowl of her cloak to reveal her face. A face that perfectly mirrored Daria's."

"I'm supposed to be impressed that a Ringwraith gave you a glamour ability?"

"You think…" For the slightest moment, Judith's eyes betrayed her surprise. "You're Wraithkiller."

"In the flesh. I suppose this is your handiwork," Daria said, indicating the dead soldiers while slowly circling and watching.

Judith shook her head. "Nah. Far too messy and random for my taste. Besides, I'm here gathering Vengeance Rings just like you."

When Judith cracked open her non-causality box, Daria hesitated as she realized that Judith had spoken the truth about that detail. Which was exactly what Judith had hoped. Knowing the vulnerability of the rings to certain technological weapons, she reached into one of the cloak pockets and drew a high-powered laser pistol, swiftly aiming it at Daria's knee. Judith enjoyed hobbling her opponents so that she could toy with them.

Thanks to the experience from her lonely and desperate quest, Daria wasn't so distracted as to let down her guard. She created a tiny disk of polished silver at the muzzle of the pistol and backed it with a force field. When Judith fired the weapon, the light was reflected back inside with dramatic results.

Judith stumbled back, holding her burned and bleeding right hand and feeling the sting of shrapnel cuts on her face. "Now I'm mad!"

Silent, Daria advanced. With the wave of her hand, a tornado-like blast of wind hit Judith, knocking her off her feet and as she tumbled, forced her to roll up within her cloak for protection.

When Judith stopped rolling, she opened the cloak and dove away from her location as the spot was flooded with a blast of pure quintessence. Judith had to force her mind to ignore the pain from her hand as she planned her next move. Using the power of her locket, Judith caused local time to stutter, creating enough disruption for her to reach Daria with a drawn Point Force Transference blade in her left hand.

The stolen PFT weapon was designed to bypass force fields and by the same token, was not slowed by Daria's telekinetic shield on its way into her kidney.

Judith's grin of triumph was momentary. Daria telekinetically clamped down on Judith's good hand and with crushing force, pulled the blade free while breaking every bone in the process.

Almost screaming from the agony, it was at that moment that Judith looked into Daria's eyes.

_Loss. Grief. Anger. Hate. Vengeance._ Those eyes chilled Judith's soul. Judith had heard the rumor of _Beta Sol_ and now believed it. She was looking into the eyes of someone driven deeper into darkness than she.

She had met a Daria that was truly frightening.

In a single, blue flash, Judith dimension-hopped away and thus, left Daria Wraithkiller alone.

Sensing the danger gone, Daria slumped to her knees as her ring healed the wound in her side. "I need to be careful. They're starting to get more creative."

On another Earth, one that she didn't even bother to note, Judith sat down and gingerly got a hand healer from her cloak. Though painful, her right hand was still usable, so she used it to hold the stolen device and heal her useless left hand. That done, she switched the device to the left to heal her right hand and then her face.

She stood, used the locket to get her inter-dimensional bearings and said, "Time to get these rings to my Ringwraith friends Ian and Anastasia. After all, a deal's a deal." She allowed herself a smug grin. "Especially when you're screwing a pair of arrogant asses over in the process."


	11. The Taking of Lawndale High

**JUDITH STRIKES!  
THE TAKING OF LAWNDALE HIGH**

**by Charles RB**

If you were out in Lawndale after curfew, you were either desperate – for food, for shelter, for an escape - or hard as nails. Either way, you wouldn't go to the Zon. It was too big a wreck, too condemned, too much a reminder of how Li had massacred organised resistance in her rise to power.

So twenty one people sneaking into it over the space of an hour? Twenty one people who were clearly armed?

If you'd see that you'd immediately know something was up, just before they slotted you before you blabbed it.

-

On the old stage, still stained from Trent's final stand, Daria Morgendorffer surveyed the massed forces – but one eye was always kept on Judith, leaning casually against the wall with her hood still up. A child of four could have guessed she had an agenda beyond the liberation of Lawndale, but help was help. Didn't mean Daria wasn't prepared to shoot the stranger if need be.

"The cell leaders aren't happy," muttered Jane, always staying close to Daria when she had the chance. "We better get a move on."

Jane was the resistance's courier, a one-woman communication network between Daria and all the cells. She was higher on Li's wanted list than even Daria, the one person whose arrest could shatter the resistance in one blow: she'd not been happy about the meet either. She knew the risks better than anyone.

But still, people assumed Daria knew what she was doing. Time to prove it.

"You're all wondering why you're here," she said, raising her voice to be heard. "And I don't blame you, because this place was a pit _before _it got half-burnt. We needed hazmat suits.

"No? Too ghoulish? Okay.

"Well, the first reason we're here is because one of us is a traitor to Li and we're going to have a bonding session by stomping them to death." She raised her hand to silence the confused babble that broke out. "Second reason is it ends _now_. We've spent two years in the shadows, barely two dozen, only able to make plans and steal weapons and help people escape to safe houses. Fighting is something we try to avoid, because it's killed six of our number and results in collective punishment against civilians.

"But we knew one day we'd be in a position to fight and win. And we _are_. Judith?"

The lady in red produced the gun with a flourish: sleek, curved, nasty.

"This little beauty is the Widowmaker. Ten round magazine, moderate range… and every round is armour piercing. You could cripple _light-armour tanks_ with it. Shoot a fucker in the head, you'll take out the head of the person behind them. And I've got a grand total of twenty of these bitches and enough rounds for you to kill this entire state." She smiled. "You're welcome."

"Thank you, Judith." Daria turned to her rebels. "Lawndale High is a fortress and Li's army greatly outnumbers us. But this sort of firepower is not something they will be prepared for. It'll be a nice equaliser. If I was a traitor, I know I'd be feeling pretty stupid right now. Anyone know the Lord's Prayer?"

The rebels chuckled, all except Head. Lanky, short-banged, thick-glasses Head, always so nervous and eager to please, now looking terrified. Despite herself, Daria felt sad for him.

"Oh, Head. You should've been better than this."

"Th-they're coming now!" he screamed, unable to bear it anymore. "They'll save me! They'll-"

She shot him in the head at medium range. Behind her, she heard Judith snicker slightly and felt a rush of hatred for the stranger.

"There's a secret passageway under the basement that leads to the school grounds: the original resistance built it, Li filled it in, I had it unfilled. We move now. Except you, Tori, you know what you've got to do."

Nineteen people fled underground while the twentieth ran into the night. Two minutes later, a squad of Li's stormtroopers stormed in with tear gas and machine gun fire, not having enough time to realise the Zon was empty after all before the bomb went off and turned the ruins into a fiery beacon.

-

Eighteen rebels, one Judith. They were split into three teams of six, each one despatched to a separate part of the grounds, each one armed with Widowmakers and walkie-talkies and given a summary of Daria's strategy.

Judith stuck with Daria's team, much to her annoyance.

"Still can't believe you had this kind of firepower," she said, keeping her voice casual.

"What can I say, D? Armalin has _resources_."

"It's an honour to be chosen by him, Judith."

"The Saviour-General" hadn't been heard from by anyone in eight months, not since Radio Free America's last broadcast as he headed for Las Vegas. Rumours – myths – abounded of a vast army gathering in the badlands, of Kyle Armalin being elected by free people as the first President since the Collapse, of this shiny hero who was far away but was clearly coming to save everyone any day now.

Judith was talking bull and Daria knew it. The guns came from somewhere else. But Daria wasn't going to let on that she knew.

She checked her team: Jane, Mack, Jeffy, Scarlett, Shaggy. This would be their finest hour, or their last, or both.

"Ten seconds. We don't stop running until we're at the gates."

The school was a fort, the unbreakable stronghold of Li's junta. Even Fielding didn't dare mess. If not for her man on the inside, Daria would never risk this.

"Go!"

Mack fired their makeshift rocket – it joined two others, sailing through the air towards three spindly watchtowers and turning them into three sets of flying debris. Buh-bye, sniper cover.

On impact, the three teams broke into a run. A siren whined into the night, stray shots rang out, and after fifteen seconds the squat, ugly machine gun posts came to life. The centre-ground one roared and Jeffy fell back, guts spread across the tarmac.

"Team, stand to! Three rounds rapid!"

Five teens dropped to their knees, five Widowmakers fired three times, and the machine gun fell silent. It fell to _pieces._

Where the hell did Judith get them from?

The three teams had converged at the entrance, where the retreating remnants of the ground's guards had met up with fresh reinforcements under Morris' command. They were putting up a steady field of suppressing fire, well-trained by Morris and not flinching, and Dawn was shot down far too easily. But each Widowmaker shot caused sprays of red, and Morris called a withdrawal after a few seconds of combat.

"Seal the doors and outflank! Siege mode! Sie-"

Judith's arms _blurred,_ and knives appeared in Morris' shoulders. She went down screaming, left outside as the titanium doors slammed shut, and Judith yelled in joy as she ran up and smashed the woman's neck with a jump.

She smiled back at Daria. "Thought I'd give a hand! I was bored!"

_Now she's not even trying to seem friendly. She'll make her move soon. Still, while it works for us…_

"Once we're in, this is what we're doing: Mack, take two guys and hold the door from the outside, don't let us get outflanked. Kevin, take Andrea and Robert, seize the armoury, we need those guns. Everyone else, teams of three and sweep the first two floors." She glanced at her watch. "Li's security is about to shut off right… about…"

-

Detention Room – the prison for all dissenters and malcontents, before they were executed – was Barch's domain, especially when she had experiments to do. She'd fixed it so even when the shooting could be heard, none of the prisoners dared cheer or react at all. Of course, she still knew the rebels were coming for them; they couldn't get in, sure, but they could make a big mess and then where'd Lawndale be? Fielding would eat them whole once Li's forces were trashed.

She glared at DeMartino with distaste when he came in. "Oh, slinking off to the safe rooms, eh? Just like a man to-"

He shot her down, giving a snarl of "YOUR LESSON PLANS **SUCKED!**".

The lights flickered. That mean that, across the school, every door and lock was opening, and the security camera system had just rebooted itself. He'd worked hard setting up that computer virus.

He threw open the cell doors with a feral grin: "So… WHO wants to CRY SOME **HAVOK?**"

-

The element of surprise, the superior weaponry, the compromised security: the rebels were able to take the ground floor faster than they thought, and were hitting the second floor before Li's men had the chance to set up defensive positions. Through the windows, the lights of a dozen fires could be seen in town – Tori had got the mobs out in force, putting the boot into the soldiers in town who'd made their lives hell.

Reinforcements would already be coming from the town, Daria knew, but with the school _and_ town in her hands they'd end up caught in a crossfire. As long as she'd planned this right.

"So why don't we just take the top floor?" asked Judith, idly stepping on a corpse as she walked. "You've got good time."

"We get that far, Li snaps and sets off the bomb that she obviously has to ensure nobody but her can have Lawndale High. We need the school intact, and its armoury. We know what Fielding did to Oakwood, it's not going to happen here."

"Forward planning! Excellent! Of course, you still have to take out Li…"

"We'll plant bombs on the second floor roof – the floor for her office."

That was a lie. Upchuck and Jane were going to sneak through the air ducts into the third floor and use nerve gas. But why tell Judith that?

"I see." Judith sighed. "Oh well. Time to make a move, I guess."

Daria had her Widowmaker up and firing the instant she heard that, but Judith had – how could anyone vanish like that? – somehow ended up at the other end of the corridor, near the stairs. And that didn't make sense. Judith's big secret agenda was to run up and get shot to death? Shaggy and Scarlett, her rearguard and co-plotters to nobble Judith when she made her move, held their guns at the place where the woman had been, confused beyond words.

From the stairs came sounds on gunfire. And… other weapons, things Daria hadn't heard outside of B-movie sci-fi. And some footsteps going _up_.

Judith was actually succeeding in single-handedly going up and oh shit Li was going to freak and set the bomb off.

Daria grabbed her walkie-talkie and screamed: "Top floor is boarded! Fall back! Grab all weapons and armoury kit possible, _and fall back!_"

"You don't think-" Shaggy started.

"Yes, duh! Run like the wi-"

Both her kneecaps exploded and she fell in the greatest pain she'd ever felt. Scarlett fell next, dead in an attempt to return fire. Shaggy was running, and Daria dimly felt pleased because everyone had to get out. Everything had gone wrong.

Even over her screams of pain, she could hear Judith laughing her head off.

"My god, spending all that time with you! The things I do for my schemes, eh?" She had a hard drive cradled in her left arm, a 'death ray' that should not possibly exist in the other. "I should thank you, really, if it wasn't for you and your merry morons I'd have never been able to pull this raid off. Too great a chance Li would've torched the drive. But this distraction, well…"

"AAAAAGGGGG WHHHYYYYYYYY?" Daria fought to choke back her screams, focusing on her hate instead of her pain. "You could've taken it AFTER Li was dead!"

"I could, but then you wouldn't have died knowing you'd lost. Where's the fun in that?" She kicked Daria hard in the side, laughing again. "And oh yes, I told Fielding what was going to happen, they'll come steaming into town and burn down everything you'd fought for! Don't worry though, Queen Bentley is going to have a nasty 'accident' soon after, because I've decided it'd be a nice little asset to have a conquering army under my thumb. Handy cannon fodder, a secondary HQ, all those attractive murderers to fuck… Fielding, Fielding, rar rar ree!"

It wouldn't be long now. The bomb would go off (and suddenly she wanted the pain to continue, anything but the alternative) and everything would be over.

No.

No, hell with that.

"You're…" She spat out blood and hate. "You're wrong. My guys'll get out… They'll get out of here with part of the armoury…"

"So it'll take them longer to die. Fun!"

"They'll _win!_ You don't know them, what… what they're capable of…" She grinned, horribly. "I do. They'll win. Fielding will die."

"We'll see. Well, I'll see. Have fun dying in delusion."

Judith walked out, leaving Daria to die.

Lawndale High erupted into flame a minute later. Ten percent of Li's armoury had been scavenged. Fielding advance squads were spotted a few hours later.

The final outcome is not yet recorded.

FINIS


	12. Scavenger Hunt

_**Apocalyptic Daria:**_

Scavenger Hunt

A Judith Strikes! Tale

by Doggieboy

Lawndale, Maryland, D-200

A bright flash lit up the area near the giant strawberry and a red-cloaked young woman stood in the overgrown lot, confusion evident on her face as she stared at the darkened city.

_That's odd,_ she thought. _I don't even see any people or vehicles moving. It's as if it's been abandoned. I can't sense any more than ten people at the most._

"Warning!" an automated voice spoke up. "Life-threatening levels of radiation present in the surrounding area. Evacuate area for your own safety."

Her name was Daria Judith Morgendorffer and she automatically glanced towards the Washington, D.C. area.

Then her locket flashed blue-white and she smiled. "Well, now, _you_ survived what looks to be a nuke war, and are in, of all places, West Virginia." She laughed and shook her head. "After I finish my business in Washington, I'm going to see you next. At least the trip here won't be a total waste."

Then the locket flashed again and she vanished.

Judith reappeared on what was once Jefferson Drive in the remains of the National Mall. Her personal shields protected her from the radiation, but she wasn't too sure just how long that would be so.

The Capitol Building was a devastated mass of blackened rubble, and the Washington Monument still stood, oddly enough, but leaned precariously at a forty-degree angle and was broken in three places. _Definitely a nuke war. A hard enough wind hits that and it'll fall the rest of the way._

She looked around in awe at the vast destruction. However grand and imposing the capital once was, now it was little more than multiple piles of blackened ashes, with a luminescent white circle visible to the north of the White House ruins.

_There's one impact crater,_ she thought. _I wonder how many there are here._ Then the woman started cursing, her words low and irritated.

"I might as well get to work," she muttered as she moved towards what was once the Smithsonian Institute. "After all, it _may_ have survived, and I _might_ have fifteen minutes at the most." She scanned the rubble carefully.

She found the item in question after eleven minutes. It was, oddly enough, inside a safe in a still-intact sub-basement, which confused her. _I wonder why they didn't have it on display,_ she thought. _It is a one-__of-a-kind - especially when compared with its counterparts across the multiverse._

Judith easily blasted the door to the safe open and grabbed the artifact before the radioactivity could begin to affect it. Then she started to touch her locket and smirked. "Not yet."

Outside, the base of the Washington Monument exploded and the broken obelisk landed on the dead ground. The black dust stirred from the impact, as did the desiccated bodies of various fowl that had died in flight over the city. The roar of the impact echoed over the empty land.

A blue white flash to the east of the monument briefly disturbed the scene and disappeared.

**********

The woods near Carthage, West Virginia

As the smoked cleared from the .10 gauge shotgun, Jane Lane blinked and said, "I don't get it. Where's the squirrel?"

Daria Morgendorffer looked at the spot where the squirrel had been, now a smoking chunk of torn-up dirt. She looked at Jane and asked, "'You think you used enough dynamite there, Butch?'"

Jane sighed and said, "Shut up."

Martin Peters looked at the two and started to say something, but he saw a twinkle in Daria's eye and waited.

"Yup," Daria added. "'Nice shooting, Tex!'"

"Be quiet, Daria."

Judith stood about three hundred yards away, out of their sight and against a tall and thick maple tree. She steadied herself against the tree as she aimed a rifle at Daria's head. The sights were centered on a spot directly above her left eye. "Time to watch your brains go splat, just like that squirrel, bitch!"

She pulled the trigger.

A hand clamped on the end of the rifle barrel and Judith found herself looking into the face of a very displeased middle-aged man.

"You do not belong here, young lady," he said.

She tried to pull the rifle from his grasp, but found that he had a tight hold on it. "Let go, you son of a bitch!"

"You filthy-mouthed strumpet, you do not know my mother."

Judith tried to pull her rifle loose again, failed, then released it and reached into her cloak. When she pulled her hand free again, it held a large revolver and she smiled at him. "Goodbye." She pulled the trigger.

Before the pistol could even fire, it disappeared from her hand.

"You do not need that weapon, either."

The young woman backed away from the man, who followed her at the same speed, and she said, "Who..._what_ are you?"

"My name is not important," he said, "but you may call me the Chronicler. I repeat, you do not belong here."

"What business is it of yours?" she asked. "Who made you the guardian of this dump?"

"I've seen your kind come and go," he said. "Scavenger hunters, contract killers, mercenaries, sport killers - you're all the same. You're all sociopathic monsters. In my opinion, you're a danger to the multiverse - but I don't have the authority to kill you."

"Why don't you just admit that you haven't got the balls to do it?" she asked.

Suddenly, Judith was lifted into the air and flung into an open cliff face. Then she was telekinetically pressed against the stone.

"I could kill you without trying," he said as he hovered in the air in front of her. He moved his right arm slightly and she was pulled out several feet, then flung back into the rock. "After all, we do have _certain_ leeway in how we pursue our jobs." He moved his left arm and a dark red hole opened in the skies beside them. "I prefer to do this, however. It's a much more satisfying way to deal with a cold-blooded killer as yourself."

_Shit! He can open portals, too!_

She fought as she was pulled towards the opening. She couldn't reach her locket, nor could her cloak as they inched closer and closer.

"You should know this," he said. "There are literally tens of thousands of Daria Morgendorffers out there - at least that many. Some of them will tear you to shreds, should you ever encounter them. I'd wish you luck, but I'd be lying. Farewell - and do not come back here."

The woman disappeared into the opening and it vanished from sight. The man smiled slightly and vanished himself.

**********

Daria looked at Martin and Jane as they negotiated a price for details about her. She thought she saw something in the skies, but when she looked, she saw nothing. She looked back at Jane.

"...four boxes and a pack of gummi bears, and I'll give you fifteen minutes and a photo of her."

"JANE!" Daria cried out in alarm.

**********

Judith looked around the red area and groaned as she heard various cries and moans. As the portal vanished, she managed to touch her locket and disappeared in a flash of blue-white light.

She didn't know where she reappeared, but sighed in relief as she thought about her encounter with the Chronicler. _I don't know who you were, but I plan to be ready if ever I encounter you again._

The young woman reached in to the cloak and retrieved what she had taken in the nuke-blasted remains of Washington, D.C.

It was a twenty-dollar gold piece, dated from the year 1849. As she looked at the face of the coin, Liberty's image turned slightly and winked at her. Then it moved back into its original place.

Judith smiled. _I've got it - a really true one of a kind._

She then portaled out of the area, the coin in her right hand.

-FIN-


	13. Community Service

_Community Service___

A '_Judith Strikes!__' fic by Brother Grimace_

NOTE: This fic takes place during the _Season Four_ finale – '_Dye! Dye! My Darling'_.

_(Tom and Daria sit in his Pinto, in front of the Morgendorffer home.)_

Daria - Did you want to talk about Jane?

Tom - Nope.

Daria - Oh. Then... what?

Tom - About our situation.

Daria - I don't know what you mean. We have no situation. Leave me alone, I gotta go.

Tom - Wait. Why is everyone so mad at me?

Daria - Why? _Why?_ Because I moved to this town and I knew immediately I'd be a total outcast. And in the one moment of good luck I've had in my entire life, I met another outcast who I could really be friends with and not have to feel completely alone. And then you came along and screwed the whole thing up!

Tom - All _I_ did was meet a girl I thought was cool and I went out with her for a while. We started to get bored with each other. It happens all the time. It's nobody's fault.

Daria - Oh yeah? Would you still be bored with her if _I_ weren't around?

Tom - Probably. And more to the point, she'd be bored with me. It's got nothing to do with you.

Daria - Good. Because I'm not interested in you, and I'd be stabbing my friend in the back if I even considered it.

Tom - Exactly. And what kind of a jerk would that make me?

Daria - Exactly.

Tom - All right then.

Daria - Okay.

_(Tom suddenly leans over and kisses Daria, who seems to enjoy it... until she finally comprehends what __she's doing) _

Daria - Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!

Tom - I liked it, too.

_(She and Tom then engage in another lip-lock, this time deliberately)_

Tom - That was definitely not funny.

Daria - I gotta go!

Jane _(o.s.; through speaker in car)_ - You got **that** right.

_(Tom and Daria's eyes spring open at the sound of a VERY angry Jane.)_

_(Tom's car erupts in a mushroom of blinding fire. Tom's body is seared to his seat, while Daria, already opening the door, is blown through the open window, but catches on something inside. Horrified onlookers appear from every direction, drawn by Daria's screams of agony as she burns alive, writhing as she hangs from the car window.)_

(At the other end of the street, Jane hands several folded sheets of paper to a woman who could only be Judith.)

Judith _(nodding towards the inferno)_ – Is this what you wanted?

Jane – Pretty much. Thanks.

_(Jane watches a person with a home fire extinguisher spray Daria to no avail as Judith puts the papers – and the small, pen-shaped device that she used on the Pinto earlier – into her cloak.)_

Jane – Nice touch, there. How the hell did you get her to go shooting through the window like that?

Judith – I wish I could take credit for that. _(She hands Jane a backpack that resembles the one that Jane always carries.)_ Every once in a great while, the universe gives you what you _want_, instead of what you _need._ Enjoy.

_(Jane opens the zipper slightly to see that it is stuffed full of papers, roughly the size of two or three reams of printer paper.)_

Jane – Nice.

Judith – Bearer bonds. Enough to get you free and clear of this dump and these people once and for all. You'll literally never have to worry about money, ever again.

_(The two young women watch as Helen and Jake run screaming out of the house, and Jake grasps his chest, falling to the sidewalk as the screaming of the Fashion Club girls mingles with Helen's screams.)_

Jane – Something tells me that you've done this before.

Judith – You could say that.

_(Judith turns to walk away, and Jane turns after her.)_

Jane – Do you mind if I ask you a question?

Judith – Go ahead.

Jane – Why?

Judith – The money – because I wish I could have done it for my Jane. _(pause)_ The rest… consider it a community service.

_(Judith disappears in a blink of blue light. Jane, shouldering the book bag, heads off down the street as the sirens of approaching emergency vehicles begin to drown out the sounds of screaming.)_

**END**


	14. The Light of a Burning Darkness

"Universe D-595 has been sealed off. We don't think this will be enough.

"Code Black Ultimate alert has been declared."

-  
JUDITH STRIKES:

THE LIGHT OF A BURNING DARKNESS

by Charles RB

-

Judith had known the Ringbearers were sealing off D-595, and that had forced her to go in early, without the proper prep work: her target artefact was too important to be destroyed. If she moved fast and was close enough to Lawndale High when she arrived, she'd get away with it.

She'd arrived into a world of darkness, and that confused her because the sun should've been out. And then she looked up and realised it was.

Lawndale was full of raw-throated, frightened screaming and the streets and gardens clogged with crashed cars and corpses; in the distance, the neighbouring city glowed with a thousand fires; somewhere, an air-raid was sounding and dull explosions could be heard. She didn't notice that for a minute.

She noticed that _the sun was black._

The fundamental _wrongness_ of it sent her to her knees, moaning, filled with blind panic and a desire to run back, forget the artefact, just _run_. Then she felt ashamed and disgusted and got to her feet, driven by the desire to forget and deny she'd ever shown weakness.

Judith took out the scanning device she'd "acquired" a few alternates back: resembling a common iPad, it could patch her into any communications network around the Earth. DELPHI was a preset target. Their codes would be different but she knew they existed here.

"You're letting it hide in plain sight, but you'll have people watching it or defences in place. Let's have a look at you..."

There was nothing. Literally. DELPHI's network didn't exist.

The Pentagon couldn't be reached either.

All military traffic she could reach was tied to Cheyenne Mountain – and all traffic from NASA, and all government traffic, and it would have caused problems for the scanner except there didn't seem to be as much traffic as there should have been. Selected transmissions referred to President Gore (she knew Clinton had still been President here), to growing losses in Texas, to "more of them" entering the Sun (_what?_), to China going nuclear on Beijing.

She kept hearing the word "Lloigor".

What the hell was that?

On instinct, she began walking through Lawndale, trying to both figure out her options and find out more. She passed the odd man and woman on their knees, screaming and voiding their bowels. Houses had their curtains drawn, some windows boarded up.

She found the corpse of Jake Morgendorffer, eyes full of blood and dead claws clutching at his chest. She passed him, then stopped, ashamed and angry at herself; she went back to kick the corpse in the face like she should have done before.

"Come _on_, Judith! You're rattled, fine, it happens, but don't goddamn lose it! Focus!"

She'd picked up a transmission from a news station – there'd been few of them, most were absent or on standby – that was showing footage instead of repeated calls to take cover. A city somewhere – was that rubble the Arc d'Triumph? – in fire and anguish, the image shaking. A naked man was walking on the air, glowing like an angel and carrying a desecrated body in his hands. A distant scream of a jet, and the man turned and the light of white heat burst from his eyes. The scream stopped.

Now some other transmission was coming in, faint glimpses of it in alien languages, the words unclear but the voices worried; in the black sky, tiny lights were just about visible. On impulse, she checked NASA's calls to Cheyenne: they reported UFO's outside Earth orbit, at least a thousand of them, appearing to form a blockade between Earth and the Sun.

"They must want to stop the Lloigor entering it," the NASA lady said.

From Judith's cloak, there came a repeated beeping sound. When she'd known she was coming her, she'd taken a charm with her that would hopefully pick up Ringbearer's before they reached her. The charm was going mental: there were Ringbearers, all right. And what appeared to be Agency. And others, groups the charm couldn't identify.

Six multiversal forces were arriving under one banner, to a universe that had already been locked off.

"They have to think... Oh shit. They have to think the lock might not be strong enough. Or they want to lock the Earth down. Or... I have no idea, but..."

On impulse, she glanced again at the TV transmission of the glowing man.

It was looking right into the camera, and smiling with too many teeth.

_And mouthing her name._

Judith didn't scream, mainly due to the determination not to scream. Behind her, way in the distance, she heard a distant thunderclap and knew it was one of the Lloigor. Somehow, they knew she was here and they knew about the locket. If they had that, nothing the agencies could do would stop them leaving D-595. They were coming for her.

She had to leave now, or reach Lawndale really quickly. Quicker than she could possibly manage.

She'd met two Daria's that had scared her – yes, fine, she admitted it now, she'd been scared of the Wraithkiller and that dead-eyed psychotic. And there was that man, whatever the hell he'd been, who'd thrown into (_Hell it was Hell say it_) that place. And the Lloigor were worse.

But Judith couldn't take being scared into submission a fourth time, she just fucking couldn't. Anything but that, anything but having to realise she wasn't the ultimate, unstoppable apex villain she thought of herself, anything but realise that greater forces might find her pathetic. Anything but realise that she—

She was running, fast, hearing the thunderclaps get nearer. Up ahead, she saw the rusting form of Tom Sloane's car, engine still running and Tom slumped against it in a catatonic state. She jumped into the car, forcing herself to gutshoot Tom as she went (she was Judith she wasn't scared fuck it), and floored it.

In the rear view mirror, she saw the outskirts of town erupt.

The Lloigor were coming for her.

-

Lawndale High had been under lockdown since 10AM, when the Sun went dark. Everyone had been ordered to the gymnasium by Principal Li, and with her mind in that state and the gun in her hand you did what she said. Besides, where else was there to go?

Sixty one students were dead, mainly suicides. O'Neill had killed himself too, bashing his head out against a wall. DeMartino had been struck down by a heart attack, but he was still alive – he was unconscious and his breathing was ragged, but Daria had spent a full hour doing CPR and using the school's defibrillator; twice, he'd died again but she hadn't stopped. She couldn't move her arms now, she'd worn herself out too much, but she'd saved him. Now she hovered over him, monitoring his health.

It was a way of coping, Jane knew: Daria couldn't do anything what was happening outside, so she focusing on something she could actually sort out. (Not that anyone really knew what was happening anymore; Angie had had a radio with her, but Li had shot her and destroyed it after the garbled reports from New York)

Jane had been focusing on drawing, but her notebook was completely full of obscenities and now she had nowhere to continue. She was scratching herself instead, and was starting to bleed a little.

Daria glanced over at her. "Jane. Stop that."

"I've tried."

"No you haven't. Stop."

There came another shot: Miss DeFoe appeared to have said something that Li hadn't liked.

-

Judith almost crashed the car in her attempts to get into Lawndale quicker: behind her, the town was being torn up as the Lloigor passed through it. She doubted this was an accident.

Up above, the sky filled with light. A NASA transmission said another one of the things had tried to enter the Sun, and the UFO's were firing on it. If she'd bothered to check her charm, she'd have learnt one of the multiversal forces was no longer present, though because of retreat or slaughter she couldn't have said.

She broke into the school in a run, speeding through abandoned corridors and hoping she remembered the right fucking place. As she neared the right lockers, she found herself knocked to the ground.

Her gun came out, but it wasn't a Lloigor. It was Kevin. His eyes were staring and he had a pasted-on grin and his pants were soaked in piss, but somehow he was standing.

"Hey babe!" he said, far too loudly. "It's not safe round here, y'know? Everyone's supposed to be in the gymnasium!"

"Out of my way!"

"I'm checking everyone knows to go there and isn't stuck here! Can't have someone getting caught alone out here! C'mon babe, I'll show you where-"

Judith shot him, carried on, and kicked the right locker open. She wasn't sure how Andrea had picked up the Gem of Ibis and she didn't care right now. Important thing was, it was hers and she could leave.

"_You have to get to the gymnasium! It's not safe here! The Liggy are coming! Get out!" _

There was a great roaring, and the building shook. Time to go.

"I win! I win! I am Judith fuck you all! I'm not scared _I'm not!_"

Judith warped out of D-595 just before the school was torn open.

They didn't know it was a shockwave, an afterthought. The y just knew an entire wall had blown apart and the roof was coming down and the whole gym was screaming and dying.

Soon, most of them knew nothing at all.

-

END


	15. A View From the Front Row

_A View From The Front Row___

A '_Judith Strikes__!' fic, by Brother Grimace_

(NOTE: This takes place during Act One of_ Esteemsters__.)_

_Fall, 1997_

Lawndale High School - Lawndale, Maryland

There was silence in the unoccupied classroom.

A blue light appeared in the back of the room, and coalesced into the form of a petite young woman, her face almost totally obscured by the red cloak she wore.

The young woman reached back into the cloak, as if she were searching, when the door to the front of the classroom opened and a forty-something man, wearing blue slacks and a pinkish, button-down shirt, entered the room.

The door closed behind him on its own several seconds after the man's entrance, and he stood behind the desk as he turned to face the intruder.

"Oh, it's just _you_," the young woman spoke, her voice overflowing with derision as she spoke. "I should kill you, too – but with what I'm going to do, you'll make yourself suffer far, far more than I ever could-"

Her words were cut off as the man lifted his head and looked at her; his eyes were filled with a brilliant blue light, swirling about as if it were alive. "_Leave this place," _the man spoke, his words not so much _spoken_… as though they were _flowing through him_. "_She is not for you. Go. Leave. __**Now**__."_

The young woman smiled - the only part of her face un-obscured by the cloak was her lower face - as the shades dropped without warning, casting the room into a strange maze of darkness and light.

Timothy O'Neill prattled on ineffectively before his class on self-esteem, one Daria Morgendorffer among the students rendered nearly catatonic by his mere presence, before he regained their attention (in part) by playing a video for them.

As Timothy stood to the back of the class and the motivational tape went on, a soft, flowing presence touched his mind at the very edge of consciousness. "_Even in the most pedestrian of lives, there may be moments of greatness, when Destiny brushes past, like a snowflake falling from a great height for another purpose – and in that passing, the future may be either changed… or preserved."_

A single tear fell from the teacher's right eye as the voice touched his consciousness one last time. "_For your service today, you and yours will be allowed to see what is to come,"_ the voice spoke. "_For what you have preserved today in allowing us this momentary vessel, we are in your debt. For allowing us to act to preserve the future, your progeny will be there to see that future. They will be there in the beginning, and shall bear witness to the dawn of __the Third Age of Mankind__…"_

_Mid-April, 2256_

_Epsilon Eridani__ system, __Grid Epsilon__, __Euphrates Sector_

Clearing the jumpgate, the Omega-class destroyer _EAS Decelaraptor_ fired maneuvering thrusters as she began final approach towards the massive space station, off in the distance.

On the _Decelaraptor's_ Bridge, Captain Stephanie Puckett turned to the handsome young man who stood off to one side, a winning smile on her face. "There you go, David," she said, the mischievous laughter in her voice familiar to both the young man, and the members of her crew. "Now, you be sure to tell your mother that I dropped you off for your first day at school, all right?"

The Executive Officer of the _Decelaraptor_, who had been with Puckett for the past ten years, stood off to one side, and smiled as he saw the way the young officer flushed red.

"Captain…!" the young man said, his face going a even brighter shade of scarlet as he saw a pair of female communications techs barely suppressing the urge to giggle as they watched him.

"Oh, don't be ashamed if you need to borrow lunch money," Captain Puckett said, the smile reaching her eyes as she brushed a wayward lock of dirty-blonde hair from her eyes. "Oh, lighten up, David! You'll need that if you're going to be working under _Ivanova_ – she's got a rep as a hard-ass. Oh, you're going to learn a lot – but, still…"

Lieutenant Junior Grade David Corwin turned to the main view screen, and watched as the image of the _Earth Alliance_ station _Babylon 5_ came into sharp focus. "You know, you could have signed on with me," the forty-something Captain continued, sitting up in her command chair. "That way, I could make certain that you stayed out of trouble."

"Mom pointed that out – right after I said that I didn't want to stay in Boston, serve in the _EarthForce Reserve_ and become a teacher," David replied. "Like her, and her dad, and the seven generations of our family before that."

The young officer turned to look at his mother's best friend. "I wanted to do something more, you know? I wanted to just… I wanted to see more."

Stephanie smiled as she recalled being a young, freshly-minted Lieutenant Commander, on leave from her posting aboard _EAS Gregory_, when she first met a young, wide-eyed David Corwin, all of six years old and with his gaze already turned outward, towards the stars and the myriad worlds out among them… "You always did," she said, nodding, "and here – well, there's no place in the universe better to see everything."

The Captain of the _Decelaraptor_ turned to look at the view screen. "Being aboard _Babylon 5_ means that you'll get to see everything," she continued. "You're going to see things that no human has ever seen before. Don't waste it, David. Don't waste a moment of this opportunity."

"I won't, Aunt Steffie," David said, before pulling himself into a parade-perfect pose as he came to attention and saluted her. "Captain Puckett – request permission to disembark!"

Stephanie rose from her seat and returned the salute. "Permission granted, Lieutenant. Happy trails."

**END**


	16. Educator DeMartino in Malled!

JUDITH STRIKES!

EDUCATOR DEMARTINO IN:

MALLED!

By Charles RB

Panel 1. Iconic, top-of-the-page shot of DeMartino in full Kevlar-suit-and-tie uniform, scowling and brandishing his Discipliner gun.

CAPTION: 1997! The rise of youth crime has forced teachers and the police to be merged into one… Only hard men can keep discipline! Hard men like EDUCATOR DEMARTINO!

[Title and credits]

Panel 2. The central lobby of the Mall of the Millennium: like today's shopping centres x100, garish and full of people and shops selling ludicrous things. (One is titled "Doo Dad Shop"; the window is full of absolute junk, yet there's long queue of people.) DeMartino (grumpy) and O'Neill stand on the right hand side, watching it.

CAPTION: In the near future, malls have grown to gigantic size! Megamalls are vast, able to bankrupt an entire family in the space of an afternoon… and none are so vast as Lawndale's MALL OF THE MILLENIUM!

TANNOY SYSTEM: Feeling depressed? FILL that void with a series of UNNECESSARY PURCHASES!

CROWD 1: Look! A 'buy 5, get 1 free' deal!

CROWD 2: Will they take my INTERNAL ORGANS as currency?

DEMARTINO: GAH! This CONSUMERIST HELLHOLE turns my STOMACH, O'Neill! What IS a doodad, anyway?

Panel 3. Daria pushes through the crowd, looking furtive.

DEMARTINO (thought): It's Daria the Brain, my main INFORMER! When did SHE start going to the Mall? Nobody sells books HERE!

DARIA (whisper): DeMartino! I've heard someone's selling MODERN MUSIC – right here out of CASHMAN'S!

DEMARTINO: GAH!

Panel 4. DeMartino and O'Neill storm away, Discipliners raised.

CAPTION: Modern music had been judged the NUMBER ONE cause of student's LACK of DISCIPLINE in 1992…

DEMARTINO: The SCUM! Come on, O'Neill – time to fill the DETENTION BLOCKS!

O'NEILL: M-M-Maybe they'll come QUIETLY this time? N-N-Not that I'm scared of violence…

PAGE 2

Panel 1. Cashman's: a clothes store that stretches as far as the eye can see, full of ugly and skimpy outfits with high price tags on them.

DEMARTINO: MAN UP, O'Neill! We have a JOB to do!

CASHMAN'S CUSTOMER: Oh NO! Flares are back IN and I'm out of MONEY!

CASHMAN WORKER: Don't panic! We accept BODY PARTS in lieu of cash! Is your LEFT ARM in good use?

DEMARTINO (thought): DISGUSTING! But fashion hasn't been made a crime… YET!

Panel 2. The Educators move through the underpants section – all underpants look the same but have wildly different prices depending on which brand they are.

O'NEILL: M-M-Maybe I should cover your REAR, partner…

DEMARTINO: I don't LIKE this terrain… We're boxed IN… Perfect for…

Panel 3. Hordes of young people with massive Kill-Crazy machine guns appear behind every stand! Trent Lane, a heavily pierced cyborg, leads the crew.

DEMARTINO: …AN AMBUSH!

DEMARTINO: TRENT LANE AND THE SPIRAL GANG!

Panel 4. Trent, aiming his gun at us. His forehead dial – which sets his mood - is set to "Rock". The other settings are "Tired", "Sleep", and "Lazy".

CAPTION: DeMartino and gang leader Trent had fought before…

TRENT: Ha ha, you fell right into our hands! This whole thing was a SET UP to draw you out…

TRENT: Once YOU'RE dead, everyone will know SCHOOL'S OUT FOREVER!

Panel 5. DeMartino and Trent face off.

DEMARTINO: You're the WORST kind of dealer, Trent! Modern music is ADDICTIVE: once students hear it, they want more and MORE… their HOMEWORK SUFFERS!

TRENT: WE DON'T NEED NO EDUCATION, MAN! And there's nothing you can do – we've got you down COLD!

Panel 6. DeMartino, grinning, activates the mike in his tie.

DEMARTINO: You FORGET, Trent… to remind students to go back to SCHOOL, us Educators are able to patch into ANY comms system…

DEMARTINO: TIE-MIKE! Mall tannoy system, now!

PAGE 3

Panel 1. DeMartino talks… and a huge horde of shoppers tear through the underpants section, trampling Trent's gang!

DEMARTINO/TANNOY: Attention shoppers! For the next five minutes, all UNDERPANTS are HALF PRICE!

SHOPPER 1: HALF PRICE?

SHOPPER 2: OUT OF MY WAY!

SHOPPER 3: I haven't been able to afford new ones since 1995!

TRENT: Oh gah! SHOPPER STAMPEDE!

Panel 2. Close up of a gang member under foot.

CAPTION: Shopper stampedes are a common crisis in future malls – thousands are CRIPPLED every YEAR!

GANG MEMBER: Not… DOC MARTINS! NOOO!

Panel 3. DeMartino shoots Trent down with his gun.

DEMARTINO: You deserve EXECUTION for your crimes… but we NEED to find your SUPPLIERS! STUN ROUND!

TRENT: AAAIIIII!

Panel 4. The Educators head out, Trent in cuffs. The shoppers continue to tear apart the underpants section in the background.

O'NEILL: Oh good JOB, DeMartino! I… I was assisting you in SPIRIT…

DEMARTINO: One thing BOTHERS me, though… Daria must have been IN ON the plot for the ambush to have worked! But WHY?

CAPTION: The question PREYS on DeMartino's mind…

Panel 5. A landfill site. DeMartino and Educator Manson stand over the corpse of Daria, her jacket missing!

CAPTION: …but the ANSWER is the REAL horror!

MANSON: She's been DEAD for HOURS! THAT COULD NOT HAVE BEEN DARIA YOU SAW!

DEMARTINO: This doesn't make SENSE! WHO could have impersonated her so FLAWLESSLY…

Panel 6. A dark bunker room. Dominating the panel is Judith – she looks exactly like Daria, but clad in a catsuit and cloak. She's dropping Daria's jacket on the floor and holds a Zip Disk.

CAPTION: "…and WHY?"

CAPTION: The answer to that lies elsewhere, as the mysterious KILLER Judith prepares to hand over a ZIP DISK: the ultimate data storage format!

JUDITH: Disguising myself as that Snot-Nosed WITCH – GAH ON A GREENIE! But when DeMartino access the Mall comms, I was able to BACK-HACK into the EDUCATOR comms…

JUDITH: This contains EVERYTHING you'd need to access and DISABLE Lawndale's Educator comm. system…

Panel 7. Angle change: Judith is talking to the menacing figure of an Oakwood Educator! The Educator is handing over a bizarre alien device…

JUDITH: …and BRING LAWNDALE TO ITS KNEES!

EDUCATOR: EXCELLENT! The ARTEFACT as PAYMENT, as promised!

EDUCATOR: Thanks to you, Lawndale will fall… and OAKWOOD will get ALL the STATE SCHOOL FUNDING! AHAHA!

THE END?

[Look out for more from the mysterious Judith in other PPMB Inc titles!]


	17. Mack Dynamite vs the Crimson Phantom

**JUDITH STRIKES!**

**MACK DYNAMITE VS. THE CRIMSON PHANTOM**

_by Erin Mills_

_"Daria" ©2010 MTV Networks_

_**EDITOR'S NOTE: **__The following is an excerpt from the novelization of the cult classic 1975 Blaxploitation film __Mack Dynamite vs. The Crimson Phantom,__ the sixth film in the lesser known "Mack Dynamite" series of films. It is also considered the last of the "good" movies in the series, if not the most imaginately named. _

_Director and writer Clarence Tyreese McCool would visit Africa shortly after this film was released and undergo what he described as "a spiritual awakening." Upon his return to the United States, McCool changed his first name to N'mbaoba and began work on the next Mack Dynamite feature: __Mack Dynamite, African Gigolo__ (1977). The film was full of confusing African imagery drawing from a variety of countires and cultures of the continent, as well as a heavy psychedellic veneer over a paper thin plot involving Nigerian _voudoun, _international drug smuggling, and, for some reason, Mack Dynamite quitting his long time career as a Lawndale homicide detective in order to become a male prostitute in Zimbabwe._

_The film was a commercial flop, but this did not prevent McCool from writing and directing three more Mack Dynamite films, each with more militant, violent, and some have even argued, pornographic overtones: __Mack Dynamite's Big Day Throwdown__(1978),__ Mack Dynamite Takes Down the Man__ (1979) and the series' swan song, __Mack Dynamite Kills a Whole Mess of Muthaf*&$#' Honkies__ (1981), a film so offensive that no less than six religions have condemned it outright, has been banned in fourteen states, and series star Michael J. Mackenzie has publicy offered upwards of $250,000 to anyone who brings him a print of the film so he can personally ensure its destruction. So far, he has paid out over $10 million dollars in this endeavour._

_Mack Dynamite vs. the Crimson Phantom__ however, is standard 70s Blaxploitation fare, and really a rather fun romp. Mack Dynamite is called up to investigate a series of strange murders around the city. The victims are almost exclusively weathy antique collectors, or antiques dealers. The victims have been brutally savaged before they died, including one poor soul who has his face removed with a belt sander. The only clues are witness reports that the killer is a small, petite woman dressed in a black catsuit and large hooded red cloak. _

_In a secondary plot, Mack Dynamite discovers that one of the victims, Charles Ruttheimer the Second, was secretly funneling cash to illicit arms dealers in the downtown Lawndale area. Further investigation reveals that Ruttheimer had paid out a large amount of money to someone referred to in his appointment book as "Judith," for "services to be rendered." Much to his surprise, Ruttheimer's son, Charles the Third, describes Judith as a "rather feisty young thing, prone to wearing a skintight catsuit that she regrettably hides under that unecessarily large cloak." Further questioning provides even more disturbing news; Judith bears a striking resemblance to Mack's old friend Daria Morgendorffer, the blind psychic he consults quite frequently when stuck on a case!_

_We join the story as Mack Dynamite returns to his precinct, summoned by Capt. Anthony DeMartino._

**Chapter 16**

Mack Dynamite pulled his silver Cadillac El Dorado up to the curb in front of the 23rd Precinct, made sure his Afro was still in place, then leaped out of the drivers seat, gold lame bellbottoms flashing in the afternoon sun. He straightened the lapels of his brown courderoy jacket, smoothed his mustache and strutted his way into the station.

Captain DeMartino was downing his customary handful of antacid tablets when Mack Dynamite strolled into his office, threw himself into a chair, and put his custom Italian Beatle boots up on the desk.

"What it is, Chief!" Mack Dynamite said by way of greeting, flashing the million dollar smile that had charmed many a man into being his friend, and had also charmed many a fine foxy lady out of her unmentionables.

Too bad DeMartino was too much of a crusty bastard for it to work on him.

"Get your feet OFF my DESK, Mack Dynamite!" the captain bellowed, his left eye bulging out of its socket on the overstressed words. "This ISN'T one of your little PUSSY PARTIES down at SQUISH-A-GO-GO!"

Mack Dynamite took the captain's bad vibes in stride and put his feet on the floor. "Chill, Cap, didn't mean anything by it. Now, what's so important that you gotta pull me off my case?"

"We got corroboration on Ruttheimer's kid's story. We showed the police sketch to the maid of one of the other victims. She said it was YOUR little psychic FRAUD who put that poor bastard's FACE in the BELT SANDER!"

Mack Dynamite's expression darkened. "That's a damn lie, Chief, and you know it. Daria wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Tell that to the PHOTOGRAPHER!" DeMartino slapped a black and white 8 X 10 on the desk. It showed a young woman with shoulder length hair and large round glasses, leaving the Landon estate on the night that poor Andrew Landon met his grisly end. She was dressed in a black castuit and a large hooded cloak. The hood was down, giving the camera a clear view of her face.

Mack Dynamite had to admit, whoever she was, she looked one hell of a lot like Daria.

"It's gotta be a coincidence, Chief," Mack Dynamite said, picking up the photo. "Daria's been completely blind since she was a teenager. Why the hell would she be wearing glasses?"

"Maybe it's all been an ACT, like those cheesy PARLOR TRICKS you always seems to fall for."

Mack Dynamite frowned and slammed his hands on the desk, causing the captain to jump. "Now you listen to me, Chief," he growled, "if it hadn't been for Daria we never would have cracked that Mr. Big case..."

"Well, I admit that-"

"Or stopped that illegal shipment of Nazi gold to Switzerland..."

"She WAS of some help but-"

"And what about that time she found the cure for that ginormous wart right there on your-"

"ALL RIGHT ALREADY!" DeMartino bellowed. "You've MADE your POINT!"

Mack Dynamite smiled again and sat back in his chair. DeMartino rubbed his face and let out a frustrated sigh.

"All RIGHT," he snapped. "I can STONEWALL the D.A. and buy you some time. But, I want actual EVIDENCE that she didn't DO IT. Something CONCRETE. And I can only GUARANTEE you TWELVE hours. Then my HANDS are TIED. Understand?"

Mack Dynamite nodded. "Solid, Chief. I'm gone."

As he left the office DeMartino looked up. "Mack DYNAMITE!"

Mack Dynamite paused. "Yeah, Chief?"

DeMartino quirked an eyebrow. "If SOMETHING should happen...say, if she were to VANISH mysteriously after you SEE her, I EXPECT you to file the REPORT in it's PROPER place."

"Proper place, Chief?"

DeMartino didn't reply, but simply crumpled up a piece of paper and dropped it into the wastebasket, before turning back to his paperwork. Mack Dynamite smiled again.

"Proper place. Got it, Chief. Gone."

Daria's latest office was on the second floor of a five story red brick townhouse on Dega Street. A sgin out front read "Madame Daria: psychic readings, tarot, palmistry, natural dermatology. 2nd Floor, by appointment only." Mack Dynamite parked the Caddy, climbed out and headed up the staircase next to the street entrance.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw a slender female figure bent over in front of the upstairs door. She was wearing a short denim jacket and what looked like a white halter top. Mack Dynamite took a brief moment to appreciate the tight, muscular buttocks encased in the ass kissing red vinyl bellbottoms, before walking up and giving the woman a playful slap on the ass.

The woman bolted upright, spun on one foot and lashed out with a fist. Mack Dynamite's forearm shot up and blocked the attack effortlessly. He smiled and looked into crystal blue eyes under shaggy black bangs.

"Relax, Baby Jane," he said. "Didn't mean nothin' by it. Just saying hello."

The expression of anger faded, and Jane Lane, Madame Daria's bodyguard and Gal Friday, smiled. Red lips parting to show perfect teeth.

"Mack goddamn Dynamite," she said, replacing her large felt cap. "Any other mofo tries that shit and they're sucking dinner through a straw. As it is, Daria's letting me have the night off. Care to buy me dinner?"

"Always, Baby Jane," Mack Dynamite replied. "But you may have to take a rain check. The Chief's got people breathing down his neck and the boss lady's in the thick of it."

"Really?" Jane quirked an eyebrow, "She didn't mention anything about it to me. She usually knows when there's trouble coming."

Mack Dynamite frowned. This was true. Daria usually didn't play up how powerful her psychic powers were, but every time some sort of disaster was about to befall her and Jane, she always got a psychic vision that warned them it was time to get out of dodge.

"Jane," he said, coming to a conclusion he didn't like. "Why are you out of the office? Doesn't Daria usually like you to be around during office hours?"

"Normally she does," Jane said, "but she sent me out for some more incense. She has a seance scheduled for later tonight, and she found out she was running low." Jane paused as she finished talking.

"That doesn't sound right, does it?" she asked.

Mack Dynamite didn't answer but grabbed the doorknob and shoved the door open. He strode into the office, Jane close behind him.

No sooner were they through the door than Jane let out an ear piercing scream.

Daria was sitting upright at her desk, her throat cut from ear to ear. Blood had sprayed over the occult paraphenalia in the office, the walls, and Daria herself. Her sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling, the dark sunglasses she usually wore having fallen into a puddle of her own blood.

Mack Dynamite and Jane could only stare at the carnage, which is why they were surprised when the red cloaked intruder burst from the back room of the office, shoved her way between the cop and the bodyguard and began racing up the stairs to the roof of the building.

The pair didn't waste any time, and bolted after the cloaked figure. Mack Dynamite took the stairs three at a time, hislegendary groin muscles easily taking the strain. Jane followed close behind. As they reached each landing for the upper floors, they pause just long enough to make sure their quarry was still heading upwards, and kept up the pursuit.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Mack Dynamite slammed into the roof access door hard. He cursed as the door proved immobile.

"Bitch must have wedged it shut from the outside." Jane said. "Hinges are old. Kick the fucker down!"

Jane went back down the stairs to give Mack Dynamite some room. He reared back and kicked at the hinges of the door, then again and again, harder each time. Finally the door gave out and flew outward. Mack Dynamite pulled his gun and motioned to Jane. They dashed through the door and out onto the roof.

Mack Dynamite had a split second to react once he saw the rocket launcher. He grobbed Jane, knocked her down, and threw himself on top of her as the projectile zoomed over their heads and reduced the roof access to smoldering rubble.

Mack Dynamite rolled off Jane and got to his feet, pulling his massive black .357 Magnum. Across the roof the red cloaked woman tossed the rocket launcher aside and reached into the folds of her cloak.

"DON'T DO IT! PUT YOUR MUTHAFUCKIN' HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE 'EM!" Mack Dynamite bellowed.

The woman froze, then put her hands in the air. She smiled, her mouth visible under the edge of the hood. Suddenly, she [i]blurred[/i] and there were a couple of silver spheres in her hands. Mack Dynamite began to squeeze the trigger, but Jane popped up next to him and hurled three shuriken at her. The woman swirled her cloak, and to Jane and Mack Dynamite's amazment, the throwing stars ricocheted off the cloak and off the roof.

"What the fuck?" Jane said. She reached into her jacket for more shuriken, but never got the chance as the woman emerged from under the cloak and tossed the spheres. Instantly a cloud of noxious purple smoke covered the roof. Mack Dynamite bagen coughing and his eyes watered. He scanned the area, but it was clear the red cloaked woman was long gone. He holstered his gun and tried to find Jane.

"Baby Jane! You there?"

"Over here! Get me out of this shit before I choke!"

Mack Dynamite waved his way through the smoke, which was beginning to dissipate. He found Jane, threw an arm around her shoulders and the two of them made their way to the fire escape on the side of the building.

A short time later, they were standing next to Mack Dynamite's Cadillac, giving statements to the officers. An amulance had arrived, along with several fire trucks.

The shock had finally worn off and Jane was finishing up a massive crying jag. Mack Dynamite reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and handed her a handkerchief.

"Thanks," she said, wiping her eyes andblwoing her nose. "I can't believe she's gone."

"That's probably why she sent you away. She knew she was gonna die." Mack Dynamite said, looking up at the window where Daria's office was located. "That don't make it right."

"No," Jane agreed. She swallowed, and let out a rueful laugh. "That explains why she gave me the night off. You know, I'd like nothing more than to get drunk and do something irresponsible with you tonight, but Daria always said that if anything happened, she wanted me to let her family know. So I guess I'll have to take that rain check after all."

Mack Dynamite nodded. He glanced at the entrance of the building, where the boys from the ME's office were bringing out a body bag on a stretcher. He quickly put an arm around Jane and turned her away from the scene.

"Go on home, Baby Jane. Make the calls, get some sleep. I'll call you as soon as I have anything, all right?"

Jane nodded, wiped her nose again, and looked up at Mack Dynamite, her expression dark.

"You find that bitch, Mack Dynamite, and you find out whoever hired her. When you do, I want in. You understand me? You do NOT cut me out over some bullshit male protector ego thing. I'm in, whether you like it or not."

Mack Dynamite opened his mouth to object, but Jane fixed him with such an intense stare that he swallowed his objections.

"All right," he pulled Jane close to him in a hug. Jane closed her eyes and rested her head on his muscular chest. "You're in, Baby Jane, you're in."

**Chapter 17**

After stopping off at the precinct to file his report on Daria's murder and update Captain DeMartino on the case, Mack Dynamite headed back home, stopping to pick up some take out Chinese food for dinner.

He parked on the street outside his apartment building and let himself into the building, thinking about the case as he headed up the stairs to his apartment.

_There's something else going on here. _He thought. _Daria had nothing to do with the other murders that have happened around the city. There was no reason for that red cloaked bitch to kill her. _

_So, let's see. Landon, Ruttheimer, and the other four victims were all a bunch of jive turkeys swapping smack for guns, then distributing those guns to gangs in the streets. Why? What's the profit?_

_And why would Ruttheimer hire Judith? Enforcement? Intimidation? And if that's the case, why the hell did she bump him off? That's like killing the golden goose._

Mack Dynamite shook his head as he pulled out his keys and unlocked his apartment door. "Makes no damn sense at all," he muttered.

After eating, and showering, Mack Dynamite changed into his favorite pair of black silk pajama bottoms and wound down with a series of tai chi exercises. Once his mind was clear, Mack Dynamite slid between the sheets of his bed. Normally, he wouldn't be doing so alone, but Daria's murder had killed his mood. He put his hands behind his head and mulled the case over for a good long while before sleep overtook him.

Mack Dynamite's eyes flashed open and he rolled out of bed just as the katana came swinging down and embedded itself in his mattress. He got to his feet, moving automatically into a fighting stance. Across the bedroom, Judith stood at the foot of his bed, arms folded, a smirk on the visible portion of her face.

"Nice reflexes," she said.

"Lady, you gotta be one of the dumbest or craziest bitches I've ever encountered." Mack Dynamite said. "Nobody else would try to break in here."

"What can I say? I was in a hurry when we last met. Wanted to meet up with the legendary Mack Dynamite in a more...intimate setting."

"You seriously think I'm interested in you? After what you did to Daria?"

"Aww, did widdle Mack have a soft spot for the psychic freak?" Judith taunted. "Don't. She was a bitch. All of them are."

Mack Dynamite's lip curled in a snarl. he dashed across the room and struck out with a hand, palm first. Judith's forearm shot up and blocked the strike.

"About time!" she cheered, swinging her foot up towards Mack Dynamite's head. Mack Dynamite shifted position, dropped under the kick and executed a foot sweep that sent Judith down on her ass, tangling her in her cloak.

Judith snarled, undid the clasp on the collar of the cloak and tossed it aside. She got to her feet and took up a fighting stance of her own. Behind her the cloak swirled oddly and landed on the egg chair next to Mack Dynamite's stereo. The odd movements of the cloak were lost on him, however, at the sight of Judith's face.

She was the spitting image of Daria. of course, she wore regular glasses rather than tinted ones, but otherwise she was identical.

"What the hell?" Mack Dynamite started. "Daria?"

Judith's expression darkened and her lip curled up into a snarl. She struck out at Mack Dynamite, speaking as she connected to his arms, shoulders, and chest.

"MY. NAME. IS. JUDITH!" she hissed through clenched teeth, the silver heart shaped locket around her neck glittering oddly in the bedroom light. Mack Dynamite grunted as a couple of Judith's hits landed. He backflipped over the bed and made for his Magnum.

Judith leaped onto the bed, bounced and landed on Mack Dynamite's back, driving an elbow into his collarbone. Mack Dynamite let out a breif howl of pain, then reached up and made a grab for the collar of Judith's catsuit. His fingers missed and wrapped around the chain of the locket. As soon as he had, his foot slipped out from under him and he lost his grip, sending the locket flying across the room.

The slip had an unexpected bonus. As Mack Dynamite slid to the floor, trying to contort himself in such a way so he wouldn't be injured, Judith lost her grip on his back and fell onto the bed on her back.

Mack Dynamite slapped his hands onto the bed and pushed off, bringing his flailing legs off the ground. He flopped on to the bed, landing on top of Judith, who began flailing her fists against him.

Mack Dynamite growled and grabbed Judith's wrists, pinning her to the mattress.

"Now, you are gonna tell me exactly who hired you," he growled, "Or, woman or not, looking like my friend or not, I will smack the holy SHIT out of you, woman!"

"Bite me, tough guy!" Judith spat. Mack Dynamite quickly let go of one wrist and adminsters a short sharp smack across Judith's face that sent her glasses flying. Judith went limp and looked at him in shock, allowing Mack Dynamite to resume his grip.

The two of them didn't move, both breathing became aware of the sheer animal scent coming off Mack Dynamite's muscular frame, while Mack Dynamite himself became acutely aware of the pleasant sensation fo Judith's breast squishing against his chest as she breathed.

They fixed each other with gazes of undisguised hated. Cop and criminal. Hero and villain. Man and woman.

Mack Dynamite wasn't sure who was more surprised when Judith thrust her head forward and kissed him. His eyes widened as her tongue slipped past his slackened lips and-

_**EDITOR'S NOTE:**__ Sadly, the copy of the novelization in our posession is damaged at this point. The following eight pages are stuck together with some sort of adhesive substance. The adhesive has set to the point that separating these pages would cause the text to be damaged and unreadable. _

_We will pick up the text at the point where it becomes readable again. We feel the reader will get the idea of what happened during the course of those eight pages._

-found a hairbrush under the bed next to her glasses. She grabbed both, sat up, unashamedly nude, and began brushing her hair out.

"God damn. No wonder they call you Mack Dynamite." she said. In the bed behind him, Mack Dynamite smiled.

"You do realize that I'm still gonna have to run your sexy ass into the slammer for what you did." he said, pulling a joint from his nightstand and lighting it. Judith put her glasses on and looked at him with a smirk.

"Yeah? And what would your captain think if he knew you were smoking that shit?"

"Hey, I'm Homicide, not Vice." Mack Dynamite replied, taking a toke and holding it. He held it out to Judith. She shrugged and took a toke of her own.

"What if I gave you my client?" she said, holding her breath. She let it go, exhaling smoke. "The guy who paid me an obscene amount of money to wipe out his business partners in the arms business."

She handed the joint back to Mack Dynamite, who took another toke, let it out and looked at the joint introspectively.

"That would be what we call 'extenuating circumstances,'" he said, "But, as I mentioned earlier, I think you're crazier than a shithouse rat, so I hope you'll forgive me for being mighty suspicious of anything you say."

Judith let out a short laugh. "So there's a real detective underneath all the polyester and Afro. Good to know."

Mack Dynamite frowned, but decided to see what Judith had to say. He passed the joint back to her, which she accepted and handed back. She leaned back over the bed and fiddled with her catsuit, emerging with a folded sheet of paper. She held it out towards him with a close lipped smirk.

"And that is?" Mack Dynamite asked, sitting up and taking it from her.

"My employer, along with the three locations in town where he's most likely holed up." Judith replied. She got up off the bed and looked around for her boots. "Could you get my locket from wherever you threw it, please? It's...a family heirloom."

"Sure thing." Mack Dynamite got out of bed, threw on his pajama pants and went looking for the locket. Behind him, Judith glanced over her shoulder, smirked again, and reached down to her catsuit, withdrawing a small thin throwing knife from the belt. She whilred and threw the knife across the room.

Mack Dynamite, who had found the locket and was picking it up, caught the movement outof the corner of his eye. He spun to the side, the knife barely grazing his rock hard abs and embedding itself in his closet door. He glanced at Judith.

"Really?" he asked.

Judith shrugged. "Had to give it a shot." She reached down and began pulling her catsuit back on. Mack Dynamite snorted and shook his head, walking back over to her. As soon as Judith had the catsuit up over her hips, she sat back down on the bed, pulling onher boots.

Mack Dynamite slid onto th ebed behind her, leaned over and gently kissed the back of her neck. Judith let out a purr of delight and smiled.

"God damn," she said, dreamily. "Keep doing that and I may have to seriously reconsider my career."

"Anything to get you off the streets," said Mack Dynamite while stretching out the chain the locket was hanging from. He quickly slid it around her neck and latched it.

No sooner had he done so, than Judith's eyes popped open. "Shit! Don't drop the-!"

Too late. The heart shaped locket connected with Judith's skin just below the hollow of her neck. There was an explosion of blue white light and the smell of burning meat filled the room. Judith screamed in agony as the locket began burning itself into her skin.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Mack Dynamite cried, leaping off the bed. He quickly grabbed a blanket, intending to try to put the flames out. As he raised the blanket, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

To his astonishment, Judith's cloak swirled and leaped off the chair, flew across the room and knocked him aside with the force of a freight train. Mack Dynamite dropped the blanket and slammed into the wall, sliding down to the floor.

He sat up, shaking his head to clear it and stared as the cloak wrapped itself around Judith and moved slightly. There was another flash of blue white light, and Judith and the cloak vanished, her screams cutting off abruptly.

Mack Dynamite got to his feet and looked around. "Judith?" he called.

There was no answer, only the faint smell of ozone and burning flesh. Mack Dynamite's frown returned. He'd heard of spontaneous combustion, but never figured he'd ever see it happen.

"Expected a bigger mess though. Damn harsh way to go." he muttered. He glanced around the bedroom again. His gaze settled on the folded piece of paper on the floor next to the bed. He quirked an eyebrow and picked it up, unfolding it as he sat down in the egg chair.

The other eyebrow joined the first as he read the name printed on the paper. A grin came across his face as all the disjointed pieces of the puzzle clicked into one clear picture. He reached for the bright red phone on the small table next to the chair and dialed a number.

"Baby Jane? Mack Dynamite. Listen, I got the bitch who killed Daria. No. No she's not. I didn't exactly have a choice, Baby Jane. But listen, she had some info on her about who's payin' her bills. You still want in?"

Mack Dynamite's grin returned as he heard Jane's invective filled response. "Groovy. Now listen, I need you to round up as many of your...special toys as you can and meet me a block from Crewe Neck at 6 AM tomorrow. We're goin' in hard, hot, and heavy, you dig?"

_**EDITOR'S NOTE: **__And here we end the excerpt from the novelization of __Mack Dynamite vs. the Crimson Phantom_. _Those curious about the outcome of this story are encouraged to track down the film or their own copy of the novel._

**JUDITH'S BASE OF OPERATIONS**

A flash of light and Judith collapsed on the bed in her room. The cloak writhed and twisted, before flying off into the corner of the room.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" Judith screeched. The cloak cowered in the corner, as Judith got to her feet and shrugged the rest of the catsuit on, leaving it unzipped for the moment. She stormed out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

She stood in front of the sink and held the collar of the catsuit open. The locket was embedded in the skin below her neck. The skin was puckered and burnt. Judith lightly brushed the locket with her fingers. The flames flared up and she winced as she felt the sting of the scar tissue.

"Damn damn damn damn DAMN!" Judith cursed. Despite all her precautions, she STILL ended up with the locket embedded in her chest. Just like what had happened to Ryo. She growled and considered her new position.

The upside: She now was able to tap into the powers of the locket more easily, and that would make things a hell of a lot more easier to accomplish, and she was guaranteed never to lose it.

The downside: The chronal radiation the locket habitually leaked was going to start working faster on her, eroding her mind and her body. Which put her on the clock. She had to get this project finished and finished fast.

Judith ran some water in the sink, splashed her face, and dried it with a towel. She stood back up, and zipped the catsuit about halfway up her breasts, keeping the locket exposed as well as a decent amount of cleavage. Judith tilted her head and turned to the side, checking out her profile.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't be TOO bad of a look. Sexy and creepy at the same time."

Judith put her glasses back on and went back to her room. As she entered, she gestured to the cloak. It floated across the room and wrapped itself around her neck. She stroked it along her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I yelled. Thank you for getting me out of there."

There was a happy ripple along the fabric. Judith gave a close lipped smile, then reached into the folds of the cloak, withdrawing her latest batch of acquisitions. After depositing them in the safe, she sat down on the bed, cleared her mind and brought up the list of items she had gotten from the Ringmaster homeworld.

She sighed. Only a few left. She was almost done. Get the last few things, do the thing outlined in the Tome and then...

Judith's grin returned. Dark, sinister, and satanic.

Then, the REAL fun would begin.


	18. The Best Halloween Ever

_The Best Halloween Ever___

A '_Judith Strikes__!' fic by Brother Grimace_

The young woman known as Judith barely had time to scream as Daria Morgendorffer's spring-loaded bed flipped over, around on one side, and smacked her face-first into a padded wall in the blink of an eye!

"GAH-!" Judith choked out, as the bed fell away from her. "DA-"

The curse was choked away as the bed slammed back into her, driving her back into the wall! "You little _bi-"_

The bed struck again with a room-rattling **WHAM! **

"I'm gonna _ki-"_

**WHAM! **

"You're gonna _pay-"_

**WHAM! **

"_Burn-" _

**WHAM!**

"_Your-"_

**WHAM!**

"_House-"_

**WHAM!**

"_To the __ground__-!"_

**WHAM! BAM! SLAM! BAM! WHAM! WHAM! SLAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!**

_"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff…"_ Judith mumbled, words and spit dribbling from her mouth.

Even the red cloak that Judith wore seemed shaken as she took a single, unsteady half-step away from the padded wall, where a perfect impression of the back of her body was visible.

_"The case for antidisestablishmentarianism has never been more threadbare... ah… ah… ah… oh, __sh__-"_

Judith's eyes went wide as her foot settled solidly upon the floor - and a very loud _CLICK!_ echoed through the room-

**WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! **

**WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! **

**WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! **

The bed settled back into its original position as Judith, actually able to carry a tune, began to sing in a punch-drunk manner. "_Cause you know that if you live in your imagination… tomorrow you'll be everybody's fascination… in my victory… just remember me… when I make it __shineeeeeee__…"_

Judith shook her head clear; a determined glare in her eyes. "Oooooooh… I _hate_ realities like this!" she hissed. "First things first, though."

Crossing the room – and watching her step for other surprises – Judith easily dodged the spring-loaded executioner's axe, the hurled boulder from the closet and the jury summons as she made her way to Daria's desk, and took the spare pair of glasses in the top drawer.

Placing the glasses inside her cloak, she then drew from within an energy pistol so mean and evil in appearance that the sun actually went behind a thick cloud formation when rays of sunlight coming through the window sparkled off the weapon.

"Now, let's see," Judith said, and the chorus of seven Benedictine monks over in the corner began to sing _Ave Satani_ as she clicked through the weapon's settings. "Toasty Warm, For Hot Beverages Only, Tanned, Ouch-That Stings, Where's The Aloe Ointment, It REALLY HURTS, Grilled Like A Cheese Sandwich, If I Could Spend Time In A Broiler, Smoking Hot Babe, Burning Man Dance Fever, Water Only Makes It Worse, Oh _God_ Make It Stop, Welcome to Pompeii, Carbon-14,000 Degrees, and 'Here's Zeus – _LIVE_!"

The monks – and their unseen musical accompaniment – continued to perform, the music building upon itself as the dial on the weapon clicked and locked on 'Here's Zeus – _LIVE_!'

Judith pulled a second identical weapon from her cloak; the second weapon made a rapid series of audible clicks as the young woman held them close. "Now," she said, an evil smile covering her face, "Let's see just how hot the 'Barksdale women' really are."

Holding both weapons at the ready as she passed through the door to the bathroom that Daria and Quinn shared, Judith prepared to kick open the door –

"Daria – what do you think of my costume?"

A sound that could only have been a scream rocked the bathroom as Quinn Morgendorffer – dressed in a life-size 'Hello Kitty' costume – suddenly appeared at the door.

"GAWD, Daria, what's your damage?" Quinn huffed, as the cloak pulled a shrieking Judith (who dropped both weapons) from the bathroom in its mad dash to escape the human-sized cat-figure. "You're so weird – even on Halloween!"

The bubbly redhead looked down at the dropped weapons, and held them up. "Well, at least you know how to make up a costume," she continued, looking down the barrel of one of the weapons. "This is really cool-"

Quinn's eyes went wide as a platypus, wearing a stylish fedora and a silver ring on its right flipper, appeared from nowhere, grabbed the weapons – tipped his hat to her - and disappeared!

"MOM!" Quinn squeaked, all but flying from the bathroom as she raced through her room and downstairs. "MOM! Daria and Jane are upstairs doing weird things again with weird outer garments and plastic models of sci-fi movie guns and weird animals from Australia – but the platypus did have good taste in haberdashery, and good manners…!"

Quinn's squeals rang down the hall as Daria Morgendorffer (Jane Lane beside her) opened the door to her room – and both stopped as they saw Judith hanging upside down, glaring at them as she (and her cloak) hung suspended upside down in duct-tape cocoons in the middle of the room.

They shrugged in unison.

"Meh," they said as one, walking inside.

Daria closed the door as Jane (dressed in the wet black leather look of 'Trinity' from _The Matrix_) walked over and looked Judith over, ignoring the way the inverted young woman looked at her with surprise before glaring with hate at Daria. "Oh, jeez, _amiga,_" she said, " not _another_ evil counterpart from another dimension trying to kill you, torture you or have her sordid way with you and not invite me in for a three-way?"

Daria (dressed as Pippi Longstocking) ignored Judith as she shook her head. "I don't care how many times you say it, Lane – you're not going to get a movie role just because you say that you're a lesbian."

"Well, who says that I can't enjoy clam chowder as much as a sausage-fest?" Jane said suggestively, waggling her eyebrows, "Besides – if they think that I'm a lesbian, imagine just how many casting calls I'd get to go on… and the food they'll toss my way . After all, '_E.F.' trumps 'F.F."_

The currently-unbound bespectacled young woman looked at Jane. "E.F.?"

Jane looked Judith over, and smiled as she turned back to Daria. "Yeah – '_Eat First.'_ That's the one thing I miss about dating Tom. All of the free dinners."

Daria rolled her eyes. "You're sick."

Jane snapped her fingers – and the monks broke out into a soulful chorus of 'Sexual Healing' (accompanied by excellent backup music as they danced) as Jane began to slowly dance around Judith.

Daria shook her head as Jane, running her hands across her body in a playfully seductive manner as she let them slide slowly over her hips and up to her neck, had an obvious effect on Judith (as the front of her catsuit showed). "Well," she said, glancing back in Judith's direction. "I guess someone here doesn't have a problem with that idea."

"Hey, Daria!" Jane laughed. "I've got an idea! If you've got a chocolate bar and can skip out of here for fifteen minutes, maybe we can tame this wild beast!"

"Yeah, yeah," Daria sighed. "Let's get rid of her, so we can get to the party at the Zon."

Jane practically bounced on air. "Ooh – let me do it, let me do it!"

Daria dropped her head. "Well, since it was your idea…"

The smile on her face lighting up the room, Jane raised her hands in the air and clapped twice – and then, punctuated it with a loud, throaty 'UHH!' as she thrust her hips forward.

In response, a pair of mechanical arms reached down from the ceiling and turned Judith right-side up – followed by a third arm that gently took the pair of glasses that Judith off her face.

The girls watched with satisfaction as another arm came down and slapped Judith soundly; the pair of arms that held Judith moved her across the room and held her in front of the closet (her glasses replaced by the arm that took them) where yet another arm came down to open the door, while the arm that slapped her swatted Judith into the closet!

A brilliant blue flash erupted from the closet, followed by another as two of the mechanical arms balled up the cloak, and the left-handed one threw it into the closet behind Judith!

"Nice speed," Jane said, as the right-handed arm gave the other a 'thumbs-up'.

"Sounds like it," Daria agreed.

"Yeah, but we'd better teach those things some control before they kill someone with that fastball," Jane noted.

The arms all disappeared as Quinn bounded into the room, followed by Helen Morgendorffer (wearing her Lara Croft outfit). "Well, Quinn?" Helen asked, looking annoyed.

Quinn's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the (otherwise) normality of Daria's room. "But – but I saw it!"

Helen dragged Quinn out of the room. "Come on, Quinn," she told her younger daughter. "It's Halloween – so your father won't mind if I put a little something extra in your warm milk to calm you down."

Daria smiled as Helen glanced back at her and Jane. "Girls – why not come down for some Halloween-theme snacks? We can't let all the paralegals eat them all."

"We'll be right down," Daria said.

As the door closed, the two girls turned to one another. "Halloween treats, your sister gets annoyed and we have fun with an evil counterpart," Jane said. "What's not to love?"

Daria nodded in agreement. "This really is the best Halloween ever!"

**END**


	19. Lunch

**JUDITH STRIKES!**

**LUNCH**

An interlude in the carnage

by Erin Mills

**THE CAFE**

She found the private booth and sat down at the table opposite the albino man in the white tailored suit. She was an attractive Asian woman with long black hair, clad in jeans, a black turtleneck and a beige jacket. Under the jacket was a holster with a standard police issue pistol.

The albino man smiled as she sat down. "Reiko, a pleasure as always."

"Lazlo," Reiko replied. "What's going on? I've got six realities in the Cluster that are interfering with each other and the 2096 world is acting up again."

"Yes, we're aware, but something has come up. We need to pull you from the Jusenkyo Cluster."

Reiko frowned. "What? I'm the Senior Guide for that Cluster. You can't pull me now! The only other Guides available are Nabiki and Gosunkugi, and Gosunkugi has his duties split between the Cluster and the Collective."

"We know, and we wouldn't pull you otherwise, except that there's an emergency in the Lawndale Cluster." Lazlo replied.

Reiko rolled her eyes. "Oh come ON. The Lawndale Cluster has tons of reality defenders inherent there as it is. Any damage done is usually fixed by the Agency anyway. What's so important that the normal Guides for that Cluster can't possibly-"

"The locket's in the Lawndale Cluster."

Reiko's mouth snapped shut and she looked at Lazlo. "You cannot be serious."

"We received a message from Nix. The Library's been robbed, and the Guardian is dead."

"Wonderful. Let me guess, whoever did it has the locket."

Lazlo nodded. "She calls herself Judith. Nix reports that she was an alternate of the Guardian. The other Guides have been monitoring the situation. She's fufilling the Prophecy."

Reiko's expression tunred dark. "That can't be. We were sure it would happen in the Jusenkyo Cluster. There's so many versions of it, and so many Muhoshins..."

"We're sure one of them has either died or passed on his locket to this Judith person. In any event, it looks like things have begun. The Lawndale Cluster's reality defenders aren't aware of what that locket really means. Only the _Ringmasters_ have any idea, and we're sure they don't have the whole story."

"No kidding they don't."

"Which is why we've extended invitations to their best agents here. For lunch."

"Lunch?" Reiko quirked an eyebrow. "This Judith person's running around with the locket, doing God knows what, and you're hosting a lunch?"

"No," Lazlo replied. "YOU are."

"I beg your pardon?"

Lazlo sighed. "Reiko, you are the foremost authority the Foundation has on that locket. We are not leaving the Lawndale Cluster uninformed, especially if Judith IS starting to fufull the prophecy. Effective immediately, you are reassigned to the Lawndale Cluster until this crisis is over."

Reiko sat back in her chair. "All right, given the circumstances, I suppose I don't have a choice. When do they get here?"

"Excuse me, sir?" the desk clerk said as Richard walked across the hotel lobby towards the restaurant. "There's a message for you."

Richard sighed and went to the desk. The clerk handed him a sealed envelope.

"This arrived for you this afternoon."

"Thank you." Richard moved away from the desk and examined the envelope. It was about the size of a party invitation, which in itself was intriguing. There were no marks on the envelope, except for some sort of logo on the flap. Six connected hexagons in a ring.

Richard frowned and opened the envelope. He pulled out the card inside and opened it. There were a string of numbers that Richard recognized as interdimensional coordinates. The odd thing was that these coordinates didn't seem to lead anywhere.

"Hrm."

He moved onto the text under the numbers. It was just as cryptic.

_As a renowned supervisor for the interdimensional organization known as the Agency, we are cordially inviting you to a luncheon and strategy meeting at the cooridnates listed above. This meeting will involve a matter of grave importance and danger to the Omniverse as a whole. Your input will be extremely valuable and appreciated. _

_Please arrive at 1430 hrs, Relative Dimensional Time. You will be expected and escorted to your table upon arrival. RSVP is not necessary. A minimum of casual business attire is required._

_Thank you in advance for your time and we look forward to meeting you._

_-The Foundation._

Richard said, "Casual Business. Bugger."

"Master Ringbearer."

"Yes, how can I-oh." Archangel cut himself off as he found himself being addressed by one of the Ringmasters. He didn't know the Master's name, but he looked like a young Laurence Olivier. Archangel, normally unflappable, found himself at a disadvantage.

"I'm sorry, sir, i didn't realize-"

The Ringmaster waved a hand. "Apologies are unneccessary, Master Ringbearer. There are more pressing concerns. Particularly as regards to your luncheon invitation."

Archangel looked at the invitation he had found in his mailbox earlier that day. He didn't bother to ask how the Ringmasters knew about the invitation from the Foundation. They always seemed to know when something big was going down.

And if the Ringmaster had actually deigned it important enough to leave the homeworld on D-476, then it had to do with something very, very big indeed.

"Should I cancel? Is this some sort of trap?"

"No," said the Ringmaster. "Nothing of the kind. In fact, we deem it vital that you attend this meeting."

"Then if you don't mind my asking, sir, why are you here?"

"There is some information you need to know about the recent raid on the Citadel by the person calling herself Judith. We fear this raid is only the beginning of something that will endanger the very existence of the entire Omniverse..."

"Have a seat, Lieutenant Patterson."

First Lieutenant Heather Patterson, Agent of DELPHI sat down in the chair in front of the Director's desk. She tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach. "Ma'am, if this is abotu the raid on the Well, I want to assure you that I did everything I could to-"

"This isn't a disciplinary meeting, Patterson." Director Paula Trainor held up an opened envelope. On the flap was a ring of six hexagons. "This was on my desk this morning. You've been invited to lunch."

Heather quirked an eyebrow. "Lunch, ma'am?"

"This is an invitation from something calling itself 'the Foundation.' They are requesting your presence for a luncheon and strategy meeting. I had an interesting chat with the Agency and the Ringbearers before I called you. Two of their best have received invitations as well. You have heard of Colonel Wright, codename 'Archangel,' yes?"

Heather's eyebrows raised. "He's a legend, sir."

The Director smiled. "Don't let him hear you say that. He's been chosen as the Ringbearers' representative. His counterpart with the Agency will be there as well."

"But why me as the DELPHI rep, ma'am? I mean, I'm honored, but I've been on Well duty since I graduated from the HIVE. I haven't even jumped realities yet."

"We believe it has to do with this Judith character who raided the TEMPLE. Since you were the one who encountered her in person, you'd be the best person to go to this meeting. As for reality jumping..."

The Director held up the invitation card and pointed at the string of coordinates. "You're about to get your first taste of it."

" I see. When do I leave, ma'am?" Heather asked.

"Immediately. We're prepping the portal now."

"I better get down there then. Thank you for this opportunity, ma'am." Heather stood and saluted.

Trainor nodded. "You have a lot of potential, Patterson. I wouldn't have selected you for this meeting if I didn't think you could hack it."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

"Ma'am."

Heather gave another salute, which was returned. As she turned to leave the office, the Director called to her.

"Lieutenant, remember one thing. While Colonel Wright has Class Ultraviolet clearance and is allowed to know that the Well exists, members of the Agency and this Foundation do not. Watch what you say. And I expect a full report when you return."

"Yes, ma'am."

The first thing Archangel noticed when he arrived at the Cafe was the well stocked bar. The second thing was the six-armed gorilla in the tuxedo manning the maitre'd's station.

The third thing was the sight of Richard arguing with said gorilla about the red and white Hawaiian shirt and khakis he had decided to wear. Archangel smirked and strolled over towards his old friend.

"Business casual, the invite said," Richard was arguing. "This is the closest thing that I had."

"That's all well and good, sir," said the gorilla in a cultured British accent, "but I'm afraid that without an appropriate shirt for the Cafe, we cannot let you in."

"I was invited, dammit!"

"Oh, I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Archangel said, grinning. Richard looked up and huffed.

"Oh great, you. The day just gets better and better."

"You really thought a Hawaiian shirt was Business Casual?" Archangel asked.

"No, but it was the only button down shirt I had available."

"And as I've explained before," the gorilla interjected, "that kind of attire is not appropriate here at the Cafe."

"I think you can make an exception this once." came a new voice. Archangel and Richard turned to see an attractive Asian woman in her late 30s step through the archway from the main dining room "These two are guests of the Foundation and we don't have time for the gentleman to make sartorial changes."

"My apologies, Ms. Tsereba," the gorilla responded, "but we can't make any exceptions, not even for guests of the Foundation. The Cafe has a reputation to uphold and-"

"And yet, you keep letting Ambassador McKittrick in here in those god awful purple and orange plaid pants of his."

"Well, the Ambassador is...er, that is to say..."

"We're in a private booth, Tendo," Ms. Tsereba said, sighing. "I'm sure the other diners won't be scandalized by the shirt."

"Well, I could...that is..."

"Or do I have to tell Mr. Lazlo about that shipment of Hyborean Ultra Chickens that were sent to the kitchen last month, in defiance of the Foundation's rules about smuggling?"

The gorilla and the woman faced down for a full minute before the gorilla snorted and turned to Richard. The ape plastered a smile on its face.

"Welcome to the Cafe, gentlemen."

Archangel smirked at Richard, who simply glared and turned to the Asian woman. "Thank you, I appreciate the assistance."

The woman smiled. "No problem. The dress code usually catches most first timers out."

"And you are?" Archangel asked.

"I'd prefer to wait until the last member of our party arrives. Makes introductions so much easier. Ah, here she is."

A portal opened briefly, allowing an attractive woman with curly chestnut hair and full lips into the Cafe foyer. She was in the Class-A uniform of the US Army. Lieutenant's bars glittered on her shoulders. The portal closed and she looked around the Cafe, trying not to show the astonishment she clearly felt.

Ms. Tsereba walked over to her. "Lieutenant Patterson? Welcome to the Cafe."

"Thank you," Heather said, shaking the woman's hand. She noticed the two men standing at the podium and walked over, holding out her hand towards Archangel. "Colonel Wright. First Lieutenant Heather Patterson, Project Utau. I just wanted to say what an honor it is to meet you, sir."

Archangel looked embarassed at the attention he was recieving,which gave Richard the opprtunity to give him his own smarmy grin.

"Yes, um, 'Colonel' will do, Lieutenant. And the 'sir' isn't really necessary."

"Yes, si-er, Colonel." Heather blushed as she tried to deal with the mental gear change.

Richard took the opportunity to elbow Archangel in the ribs. Archangel blinked and gave him a dirty look.

"Oh yes," he sighed, "May I present Supervisor Richard of the Agency? Multiversal defense expert and all around pain in my keister."

"Likewise, 'Colonel,'" Richard said with a smirk. He held out a hand to Heather. "A pleasure, Captain Patterson."

"Supervisor," Heather said politely, shaking his hand. Behind her, Ms. Tsereba folded her arms and cleared her throat.

"Now that we've all arrived, shall we adjourn to our table?"

Okay, I guess we can get started," the Asian woman said as she closed the curtains to the private booth, after the waiter had departed with their orders. "My name is Reiko Tsereba, and I am a Senior Guide with the Save the Universe Foundation, or just 'the Foundation' for short. It sounds a lot less Silver Age."

Reiko glanced from Richard, to Archangel, to Heather before continuing.

"We've contacted each of you as representatives of the Agency, the Corps of Ringbearers and DELPHI because there is an emerging crisis in your Reality Cluster which is of particular concern to the Foundation.

"Recently, several realities under your purview, the multiverse we here at the Foundation term the Lawndale Cluster, have been visited by a young female psychopath in a red cloak-"

"Judith." Heather and Archangel simultaneously. They looked at each other.

"You know about her?" Heather asked.

Archangel nodded. "She hit the Ringmaster homeworld. The Citadel itself. They put the word out on _her_."

"Are you serious?" Richard asked. "She MUST be crazy."

"But smart," Heather added. "She managed to get through all the defenses in our...facility. And that's almost impossible without violating the laws of physics."

"Which," Reiko said, "In a way, is the point of this meeting. The Foundation isn't large, but we keep an eye on any unusual breaches in multiversal barriers, and what concerns us is how Judith is managing to travel around your Cluster."

She sighed. "Judith has come into posession of what is quite possibly the most dangerous magical item in the entire Omniverse. A sliver heart shaped locket that' s been magically imbued with the power to travel through time and reality."

Richard said, "Something tells me that the usual means to isolate it or prevent travel don't work with this locket."

"You'd be right. The locket originates from a Cluster where magic is not only unpredictable, but downright malevolent. Nothing works the way it should, and the side effects of any magical experiment are usually chaotic at best, and usually end up biting the user in the ass."

"So what's so special about this particular locket?" Archangel asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Reiko began gesturing with her hands as she warmed to her subject. "A typical magical or technological device designed for reality travel can be made, and typically transports the user through existing holes in the fabric of reality. These holes are old, but stable, and generally don't succumb to entropy. They follow the basic laws of multiversal physics, what we typically refer to as The Rules. The Rules are what allows safe multiversal travel, as well as the ability for organizations like ours to block off dangerous realities and prevent deliberate or accidental travel to them.

"The side effect of the creation of the locket is that it breaks The Rules.

"Rather than going through extant holes, it just punches new holes in every reality the user travels to. It doesn't matter if we've blocked off a world or not, if the user wants to go there, the locket will find a way to get them there. These new holes are completely unstable and fray like crazy. The more the locket's used, the more holes are made."

"So if you know what it is and what it does, why not destroy the locket?" Heather asked. "Seems pretty reasonable."

"And you'd have a good idea, except that we've tried, and tried, and tried. Every time the locket was destroyed, four or five more showed up in the Cluster. We're not even sure how many of them there are now. And every time someone finds one, they poke more holes in the Cluster's fabric.

"The Foundation is committed to making sure the Omniverse doesn't succumb to entropy, die, and take all of reality with it. We monitor the Clusters for dangerous reality hoppers, send out a Guide to get them back on track, and take action to get things back to normal."

"But something went wrong." Archangel replied. "You had a plan in place for the locket, but it didn't work out."

Reiko sighed again. "And it's largely my fault. About 15 years ago, I was a Guide sent to help a group of reality hoppers form the Jusenkyo Cluster fix a huge damn mess they had accidentally created. They were traveling via the locket, but it was stolen from them by an umbrella-weilding nutjob named Ryo Muhoshin. Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem, The rest of the group were no slouches in a fight and could easily take him if they could find him. But, once again, the locket had an edge.

"Whoever made the locket hadn't made it properly. The magic was leaking like crazy in the form of chronal radiation. It was poisioning Muhoshin, who refused to take it off. Eventually he was defeated, but by that point the locket was embedded into his chest and flaring so much that he had to be sealed off in a special chamber by one of our ally groups, the Collective. Since then, we've made sure to try and confine the damage done by the multiple versions of the locket to the Jusenkyo Cluster. It's pretty resilient and can cope pretty well with the locket's mischief."

"And he's been locked up ever since?" Richard asked. Reiko nodded, and he frowned.

"Then how did Judith get the locket in the first place?"

"While that Muhoshin is locked up, other versions of him have found other versions of the locket. We keep an eye on them as best we can. Usually they end up poisoned by the radiation and die, but we intervene every so often to keep him under control. But one of them met someone here in the Cafe."

"Judith." Heather said quietly.

"Correct," Reiko said, "As near as we've been able to tell, about five years ago, Judith was caught halfway through a dimensional rift that was healing itself and closing. When that happens, anyone who isn't on one side or the other is cast into the void between realities.

"We've set up a special system to bring anyone who falls into a void here to the Cafe."

Richard said, "Sounds like universe TRM-001, only more civilized."

"And safer for lost travelers. They can usually find someone willing to give them a lift back home. Judith, on the other hand, refused to ask, prefering to make threats instead."

"The Ringmasters said she wasn't the quiet, demure type." Archangel said, putting down his drink.

"As best we can tell, Judith met up with a version of Muhoshin and the two of them formed a partnership. After that, it's largely guesswork, but we figure they traveled together for a while, causing some low key mischief, then Muhoshin either died or passed on his locket to Judith."

"Who's been traveling around the D-class worlds ever since," Richard finished. "This explains a couple of incidents in Lawndale that no one has been able to adequately explain. We've had records of unusually brutal robbieries and murders in a couple of worlds associated with dimensional disturbances that we haven't been able to solve."

"So what's Judith up to?" Heather asked. "I mean, if she's been doing this for five years and managed to keep herself off all of our radars, why start attracting attention to herself now?"

"The Library." Richard said quietly. "It has to do with her raid on the Library."

"Exactly," Reiko said. "We've been allies with Daria Morgendorffer, the Guardian of the Library for some time. But she was murdered and her servant Nix reported to us that the person who did it was an alternate version of her and that this alternate had the locket."

"Whcih is why you've taken an interest in the Lawndale Cluster." Archangel said, "You didn't expect the locket to jump Clusters like that."

"No, we didn't. But there's more to it. We're pretty sure Judith has begun enacting an ancient prophecy that has the potential to wipe out reality as we know it."

Reiko reached into the pocket of her jacket and withdrew a small object similar to a pocket watch. She opened it, flashing the desgin on the cover to her audience; six hexagons in a ring with the legend "Reality is Not an Absolute" engraved underneath it. Reiko made some adjustments then placed the device on the table. A holographic image of a wall of ancient hieroglyphics appeared in the air in front of them.

"This is an inscription the Foundation found in one of the oldest known realities in the Omniverse," Reiko began, "it took several hundred different scholars across God knows how many realites to decode it. But basically it translate as this..."

She tapped something on the face of the device and the hieroglyphs morphed into understandable text.

_ When the House of Knowledge is Plundered_

_ And the Shadow brings about its multiple destruction_

_ The Worldburner will Come to Herald _

_ The End of All that is Known._

_ Should the Worlds protected by the Rings,_

_ the Operatives, and the Disciples of the Oracle survive,_

_ Then will come Salvation and the Beginning_

_ Of the New Era..._

"Have I mentioned how I LOVE that all ancient prophecies are completely cryptic and unhelpful?" Archangel said, smirking.

The remark got a round of polite chuclkes, breakign some of the tension at the table.

"Well said, sir," Reiko remarked. "But, we actually have a pretty good idea what it means.

"We sent investigators to multiple versions of the Library, looking for signs of the locket, and it appears that Judith got her hands on the last known copy of the Tome of T'agobinskem'ace."

Richard's eyebrows raised. "I thought all the copies of that book were destroyed eons ago."

"So did we until one of our Guides found the damn thing."

"_Things_," Archangel growled. "The bastards on Counterpoint had a copy. It's the reason they were able to build tech that could stand up specifically to our Rings - including those necklaces."

He spat out the words as if they had a foul taste. "After we took Counterpoint, the Ringmasters themselves came and took the Tome back to the Citadel so they could seal it away - permanently."

Reiko nodded in agreement - filing away the information of another extant Tome for later. "We turned our copy over to the Library for safe keeping."

"What's so special about this book?" Heather asked.

"It's hard to explain." Richard said, "But legend has it that the Tome has information on just about any topic the reader wants. It doesn't matter how secret, how forbidden, or how obscure it is, the Tome has it.

"When it comes to theories about how the Omniverse is structured, there's presumably no better resource. It supposedly has everything you could want to know about it. The Agency's been trying to get a copy for years. Apparently, the Foundation got to it first."

Richard shot a cool look in Archangel's direction. "Among others."_ Which also explains a few things_, he thought quite loudly.

"That would explain how Judith even found out the W-our intel source." Heather said, "We were wondering where the leak came from, because nobody outside of the personnel assigned to it and the DELPHI director knows it exists...and I am SO getting terminated when this gets back to her."

"We can keep our mouths shut." Archangel reassured her. "We wouldn't work for who we do if we couldn't. And don't forget, you aren't the only DELPHI agent in the room."

Richard and Reiko nodded their agreement. Archangel turned to Reiko.

"So Judith steals the Tome, reads something that interests her, and starts this little rampage across the Lawndale Cluster. Presumably, it has to do with the list of Level 9 items that DELPHI asked the Ringmasters to archive."

"Us too," Heather said. "She managed to break into our-" The DELPHI agent paused breifly with a quick glance at Richard. "Our intel system and steal the information."

"So she's after a bunch of items that have some sort of significance to the D-class worlds." Richard mused. "For what, exactly?"

"We don't know." Reiko admitted. "We'd probably need the Tome to figure that out."

"Which we don't have."

"Right. But here's what concerns us. When we investigated these little rampages of Judith's, we've found at almost every world she's visited in the Lawndale Cluster, she's committed the cold blooded murder or worse of one particular person."

"Daria Morgendorffer." Richard said.

Reiko nodded. "Exactly. And from Nix's report, we know that Judith is an alternate of Daria Morgendorffer."

"'When the House of Knowlege is Plundered, and the Shadow brings about its multiple Destruction...'" Archangel quoted. "She's fufuiling the prophecy."

"And that's why we're all here. Judith, whether she realizes it or not, is about to herald in the rise of this Worldburner thing, whatever it is, and start bringing about the end of the Omniverse."

"Then this is pretty simple, isn't it?" Heather asked. "We know what Judith looks like, and we have the resources. Between all four of our agencies we should have the manpower to find Judith and isolate her before she does whatever it is we're supposed to do, right?"

"It isn't that simple." Reiko and Archangel said simultaneously. The two of them looked at each other, then Reiko gestured for Archangel to go ahead.

"Before I accepted the invitation to this meeting, the Ringmasters asked me to meet with them. I'm pretty sure they suspected what this was all about. Judith didn't exactly steal the information from their Well of Souls. They gave it to her."

"What are they up to this time?" Richard asked, irritation creeping into his voice. Irritation that Archangel promptly ignored.

"I'm willing to bet they know about this prophecy and that Judith was beginning to fufill it. They can get kind of weird about things like that which are 'supposed' to happen. The last time they 'let something happen' was during the Daylight Crisis."

He shifted in his seat. "That explains why we we haven't been allowed to just pile on and simply remove that bitch and her bling from the Aether - and why we haven't been sent in to do resets on worlds she's gone to play."

"Not only that," Reiko added, "If we were meant to capture or kill Judith, why haven't any of us been able to do so before now? In fact, we know there's plenty more entities with more power than us out there that could have encountered her as well and put a stop to her. So why is she still running free?"

Richard frowned as he sipped his coffee. "Something's protecting her."

Archangel nodded in agreement. "I truly hate this 'Chosen One' prophecy crap - and the lengths things will go to in order to make it happen."

"Exactly," Reiko replied, ignoring Archangel's comment. "We figure that this prophecy has been a long time in coming, and whatever is supposed to happen, the Omniverse is going to make damn sure that it does, even if it has to protect Judith in the meantime."

"You make it sound like the Omniverse is sentient or something." Heather said.

Reiko fixed her with a look, which was echoed by the Ringbearer and the Agent. Heather raised her eyebrows.

"Oh come ON. You can't seriously tell me that-"

"We don't have time for a discussion on the nature of the Omniverse right now." Reiko said.

"Okay, fine," Heather said frowning. "So if we can't stop Judith, what the hell can we do?"

"We can try to minimize the damage. The second part of the prophecy uses the word 'should' which means that there's still some room for free will in there." Reiko made another adjustment to the device on the table and the image changed to a three dimensional model of the Lawndale Cluster. "Do any of you have a list handy of the worlds in the Cluster using that numerical classification you use?"

"Yeah," Heather said, pulling out a small touch screen device similar to a cell phone. She fiddled with it for a moment before handing it over. Reiko touched the screen in a couple of places, then on the device on the table.

"What exactly is that thing?" Heather asked.

"Reality Compass. Standard issue for Foundation Guides. It helps us get around the multiverse using those stable holes I told you about. These are just some of the ancillary features. Ah, here we go."

The hologram shimmered and the numerical classifications of each world in the Cluster appeared next to the appropriate model. Reiko tossed Heather's "phone" back to her, then made more adjustments to the Compass.

"Now what are you doing?" asked Heather.

"Looking for the Key World..." Reiko said, focused on what she was doing. "Okay, let's see what we've got."

The hologram shimmered again and faint blue lines began radiating from each world, connecting it to other worlds in the Cluster, and a few that led off outside the field of view. Reiko reached up and began moving worlds aside, sorting through each one.

"If we knew what you were looking for we could probably help." Archangel said, "There's over 64 million worlds on that list."

"I know, but there's one in particular that will stand-aha!" Reiko moved a couple of worlds aside, leaving one floating before them. Unlike the others, one of the lines radiating from this world was a vibrant red and led outside the range of the hologram. The label hovering next to the world read "D-101."

"This is your Key World." Reiko pronounced.

"And that means what, exactly?" Richard said, quirking an eyebrow.

"It's like the keystone of an arch. Every Cluster has one world from which all the various alternatives splintered off. That's the Key World, the main timeline which every other alternate in the Cluster spawned from."

"Got it. We call it the Origin," Richard said

"Then you know it's the most important world in your Cluster."

"I don't see how." Heather said, "Aside from an Architects' Gate in the back of the Good Time Chinese Restaraunt in Lawndale leading to the Holiday Island pocket universe, there's nothing overly special about it."

"Exactly. Key Worlds are usually innocuous and boring. It's part of the survival mechanism. But, like an arch, if the Key World is removed or destroyed..."

Reiko reached up and double tapped the model of D-101, which promptly shrank in size and out of existence. Once that happened a ripple of energy shot through all the threads connecting it to its variants. Those worlds shimmered out of existence, and the worlds attached to them did likewise, until eventually, the entire Cluster was wiped out.

"...the whole damn thing collapses." Reiko finished. "But that's not the end of it. Look again."

The three looked closer and saw the energy wave travel down the red line. The hologram tracked the movement to a new Cluster, to a world marked "BB-01." That world vanished and all it's variants did likewise. Reiko widened the view and everyone watched as the resultant shockwaves moved from Key World to Key World, wiping out Cluster after Cluster, until finally there was one world left, labled "Prime." And a sharp breath was heard as all the energy waves from all the connections hit that world and shattered it to smithereens.

"If one Cluster goes, another one will follow, and another, and another until all of reality goes away." Reiko said quietly. "That's what we figure this Worldburner thing can do. Wipe out any reality it visits."

"You said we could minimize the damage." Archangel said, shifting into problem-solving mode. "How?"

"The prophecy seems to be targeting the Lawndale Cluster specifically. Until the locket jumped out of the Jusenkyo Cluster, we'd spent our time trying to figure out who or what the Rings, Operatives, and Disciples equated to on those worlds.

"But, with the knowledge that Judith is on her rampage with the locket, things just got a lot more clear. Something is prophecied to rise up to stop the Worldburner and bring in this New Era. All we have to do is keep the Cluster from collapsing. That means running damage control on any other worlds in the Cluster, and making DAMN sure that Judith stays the hell away from D-101. The Cluster probably has its own defenses working on D-101. That tends to happen on Key Worlds-"

"But a little more insurance couldn't hurt." Archangel said.

Reiko sighed in resignation. "Yes. As a duly appointed representative of the Foundation, we're formally asking for assistance from the Agency, the Corps of Ringbearers, and DELPHI in running damage control and defense in the Lawndale Cluster until such time as Judith is either stopped or killed and this threat finally nullified."

The Agent, the Ringbearer, and the DELPHI Operative looked at each other.

"I can't really speak for DELPHI-" Heather began.

"I can." Archangel said. "Don't worry about it. Just say I pulled rank on you." He looked at Reiko. "I already have authorization from the Ringbearers to offer our assistance, and I can also ensure DELPHI's cooperation."

Richard turned his gaze to the Guide. "The Agency has a vested interest in this crisis. We're in. But we want to be sure we're kept in the loop. And we'll want to know more about you people in the Foundation. "

"Same here." said Archangel.

"Us too." Heather confirmed.

Reiko smirked. "Well, we figured that. Okay, for the purposes of simplicity, assuming your superiors agree, I propose that the four of us take point on this, coordinating our efforts and resources to our best advantage. Remember, our job isn't to stop Judith, but to minimize the damage she causes."

Reiko brought up the map of the D-class Multiverse again. "Now, to start off with, let's compare notes about where she's been..."


	20. Rest Stop

_Rest Stop___

A '_Judith Strikes__!' fic, by Brother Grimace_

_(NOTE: This fic takes place __immediately__ after __The Best Halloween Ever__. It is a follow-up, of sorts, to my fic __Tapped Potentials__.) _

"So… have you come to _kill me?"_

Judith lifted her head as she untangled herself from her red cloak, and saw the hated image of one of her doppelgangers raise up from the bed where she lay in shadows, and thin beams of bluish-white moonlight.

"Yeah," Judith breathed out, slow and angry. "Pretty much."

"I suppose that it was bound to happen eventually," Daria continued, no sign of fear in her eyes as Judith rose from the floor as if she were ascending from Hell itself. "How do you plan to do it?"

"After what I just went through in this room," Judith hissed, "I'm thinking _long and slow,_ with lots of screaming – and the use of _many_ implements."

The involuntary shudder of pleasure that visibly went through Daria at her words made Judith actually step back.

"My thoughts exactly," Daria purred, running the fingers of her left hand through her masses of auburn hair as she watched the cloak flow around Judith as it fastened itself around the woman's neck. "If I am to die today, may I be allowed to choose the manner of my execution?"

Judith felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw her counterpart rise from her bed into moonlight; the fact that Daria wore an off-white gown that could charitably be called 'translucent'…

This Daria was physically _perfect. _

"How about death by 'bunga-bunga?" Daria said pleasantly, almost teasingly, moving towards Judith in a way that would make an outside viewer think that Judith was the one in danger… of a sort. "You can torture me all you want…"

For the first time that she could remember, Judith actually hesitated at the sight of one of her counterparts, drinking in the sight of beauty – of an animal-like feminine quality, gentle, and yet forward and direct, which radiated from Daria like heat from a raging fire with every step she took – until the two women were so close that Judith could breath in the slight hints of clean, that comes from freshly bathing, and the gentle, sweet scent of Daria herself…

"_Don't __touch__ me!" _

The words leapt from Judith's lips, seeming to fly forth as though they were a shield – a shield erected by her subconscious to block the other woman from moving any further, as if she were an imminent threat. "_Don't__!"_

Daria's lips parted slightly – _her lips, so much like my own,_ Judith thought, but so much more; minuscule changes, she didn't know what they were, but they made it so difficult to look away as they opened slightly more, closed, and opened again as Daria spoke. "What's wrong?"

The uncomfortably beautiful reflection of herself in the moonlight made Judith flinch as Daria raised a hand to touch her – and Judith stepped back immediately. "Oh. _That._ You don't have to worry about that _here__."_

Daria reached forward; Judith's eyes widened in complete horror as she instinctively grabbed Daria's right wrist with her own left hand before she realized what she had done – horror that swiftly turned to stunned disbelief as she looked from her hand into Daria's eyes, glanced back down and then back to Daria, confused almost beyond words.

The counterpart's gazes connected – one dumbfounded, and one, serene.

"I don't – this – we should be – _How__-?" _

Judith's words came out haltingly, and then, were cut off completely as Daria leaned forward to press her lips to Judith's, sending shock, disbelief and the unceasing torrents of anger that flowed without ending inside her to the edge of consciousness as the soft and the moist and the warm of Daria's kiss acted like a gentle balm, a medicine that took away pain, the pressure of thought, and all the worlds from her mind's eye…

Judith had absolutely no idea how she had crossed the room, how she and Daria had found themselves in the bed of her high school years, of how anything she had ever done before in this bed could be as welcome as the feel of Daria's lips on hers… a peculiar sound penetrated the warming, anesthetic haze shrouding both Judith's body and mind, sounds familiar and yet remote from experience… until she realized that it was the sounds of her own gentle moans of pleasure.

She realized that she had grasped Daria's wrist once more; lifting her head from the pillow where it rested, Judith saw that she had stopped Daria from pulling the zipper of her catsuit open.

The sharpness of Judith's tone caused Daria to glance up. "Don't!"

The woman in the nightgown smiled at her counterpart as she gently caressed the nape of her neck, exposed already by the slightly opened zipper; Daria kissed the tip of Judith's nose, and made a line of gentle kisses down her cheek to Judith's right ear.

"You don't have to be afraid," Daria's whisper was soft in her ear. "I'll take care of you."

Daria's hand reached again for the pull-tab of the zipper; once again, Judith stopped her.

"Don't," she said, her word almost a plea. "_Please."_

Daria smiled down at her. "I'll take care of you," she spoke once again. "I promise."

Judith looked into Daria's eyes for a long time; she gave a barely noticeable nod, and turned her head away as Daria began to unzip Judith's garb –

For the first time that she could remember in many years, Judith felt a tear slip down her left cheek as she felt the grotesque scar that was her locket – now seared permanently into her flesh, just below the hollow of her neck– exposed to the cool night air.

"It's okay," Daria said, looking from the locket to Judith as she reached out and turned her head back. "It doesn't matter."

Shame – but surprisingly, not anger or hatred – made Judith's skin flush a bold crimson as Daria traced a slow, thin line on the underside of Judith's right breast with an index finger; her back flexed slightly as her breath caught in her throat, and a sudden, strangled sound of disbelief escaped her as Judith felt Daria's finger stroked past the locket, and she tried to turn away.

Daria drew her counterpart back down to the bed; Judith didn't resist as they kissed once more. "It doesn't matter to me," Daria repeated, as she stroked Judith's neck.

Judith moved Daria's hand away from the locket. "Please," she said. "It matters to me."

A tiny smile crossed Daria's face; Judith's eyes widened as Daria put her hand to her chest, and a soft blue light flowed out into the room-

Judith glanced down to see that the spot on her chest where the locket had nestled itself was once again soft and unmarred by the piece of jewelry, or the burn scars that had surrounded it. "Oh," she whispered, wonder on her face. "Oh, my… how?"

She looked up to Daria. "Why?"

Daria smiled. "Because it matters to _you._"

Judith hesitated momentarily as Daria leaned forward once more, but didn't draw away or resist as their lips met, or as the kiss they shared grew deeper… dark emotions fell away from the young woman as easily as her clothing did, and for an all-too brief time afterward, Judith knew nothing but warmth, and joy, and peace.

_You're the first one,_ Judith thought, looking at a sleeping Daria as she sat in the desk chair across the room from the bed several minutes ago. T_he first one I haven't tried to kill, or left to die, or in unimaginable torment. _

_You're the first – Oh, God -_

Judith's scream of agony brought Daria instantly out of sleep. Shading her eyes against the explosion of blue-white light, and grimacing as the smell of burning flesh permeated the room, she began to rise from the bed as she saw Judith screaming in the center of the light, her cloak flowing around her as if buffeted by a great wind.

Daria could have sworn that – just before she disappeared into the light without a trace – Judith had reached out to her…

Before she could get both feet on the floor, a pinkish ring of energy spun into existence in front of the closet door, and Daria looked up as three persons – an attractive twenty-something blonde in blue-motif fatigues, and two men in bulky, translucent-blue armor that made them look like soldiers in a sci-fi movie – stepped through into the room. "Daria! Are you okay?"

Daria was about to answer, but the way that the two Ringbearers in life-force armor were staring at her as if their eyes were about to pop out made her reach back for a blanket. "Her locket reactivated itself as if it had a mind of its own, or as if there was a fail-safe-"

"No – that was the Prophecy, asserting itself," Priscilla Henry – _Valkyrie_, as most of the Corps of Ringbearers knew her – replied. "I guess that our countermeasures to stop the locket didn't work."

"Well, it wasn't a total waste," one of the _Warhammers_ spoke up, still looking back from Daria to her bed and back. "At least you calmed her down for a while-"

Valkyrie didn't even look back as she pointed her right hand at the Warhammer, and he yelped as a purplish ring of energy opened up beneath him and sucked him through.

"I'll go back to the Liberty Island Citadel and report your status here," the other Warhammer said quickly, before he disappeared in a flash of disappearing darkness.

"At least we know that the Focus works," Valkyrie said, ignoring the Warhammer's exits as she went over to the desk and picked up an expensive-looking fountain pen from the desktop. "It temporarily dispelled all of the emotional pain and suppressed the sociopathic qualities that Judith was experiencing, and left her a normal young woman who needed to be comforted."

"I healed her, Priscilla," Daria said, sitting back down on the bed. "With me, here, she wasn't – she wasn't – _that_ – she was just…"

Daria looked up as Priscilla sat down next to her. "I could feel who she was inside, without all of that anger, without being all twisted up inside," she said. "She… I wish that it had worked, Priscilla. With my gifted powers, I could have kept healing her, and kept that thing still until we found some way to separate her without killing her."

The two women were silent for a moment. "Did you actually feel something from her?" Valkyrie asked.

"Yes. She did, too," the auburn-haired woman said. "It was strange; I knew that I would probably have to sleep with her when she came through – but I didn't realize that we'd - _connect…_"

Daria looked her directly in the eye. "Oh, God. Talk about being narcissistic."

She got up, and began to pace. "A few hours alone with 'myself', and I'm feeling this way… with everything we've all gone through here, leave it to good ol' Daria Morgendorffer to find something _new and unusual_ and start having feelings for an alternate-universe version of myself, even if I'm just following orders to 'distract her by any means necessary, for as long as possible.'"

She stamped one foot on the floor. "Damnit, couldn't it have at least been a male version of me?"

"Stop complaining – at least about the physical part," Valkyrie replied. "Ever since I decided to take a posting here for the foreseeable future – and you guys let me move into the spare room – I've had a chance to hear you 'in action' on occasion. 'Darius', 'Dorian', 'Judith' – you'd still have found a way to scream. and scream until the cows come home."

"That might be just the thing, then," she continued, as Daria gave her a cross look. "I thought this might be a good idea…"

Daria locked an accusing glare on her friend. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," was the response. " I just figured that, if nothing else, we can screw with the Prophecy, if you and she connected."

Daria went dead still. "What?"

"We figure we might be able to throw a monkey-wrench in on two points," the blonde told Daria. "There's a line in the prophecy about how 'the Shadow brings about its multiple destruction', but if Judith actually feels anything for you – especially with the intensity of how you Darias love – then she won't be able to kill _you_, of act in any way to cause your death, without it emotionally destroying _her_. Also… going by the way these concepts are structured, having Judith feel deep emotion for you fundamentally changes who she is."

Priscilla smiled. "One of the nice things about Daria Morgendorffer-"

Daria huffed in dismay. "I hate being spoken of in the third person when I'm in the conversation."

"-Is that she's the 'either-or' type of girl," the blonde concluded. "She likes or she doesn't. She loves intensely, or she doesn't love at all. She's either Shadow-"

"Or 'Light'," Daria said, her face brightening – and just as fast, crinkling with uncertainty. "That's really pretty thin. That's 'B-grade horror movie psychology principles' thin."

"Apparently, you don't realize just how potentially completely screwed we all really are," Valkyrie pointed out with unusual bluntness. "I'm a 'Cinematic' - that's a specialist in _Gardner Principle_-related activities and beings - and with the way this woman is jumping from universe to universe, not only is there the very real possibility that she's going to open up a portal into one of those realities-"

The blonde rose from her seat. "Where those 'B-grade horror movie psychology principles' are the _Holy Gospel_ that those worlds run upon. _THAT__ means those creatures and things actually exist there, and have a chance of breaking through to one of __our__ worlds_ – but that the principles that one of those realities runs on – and how to use them to our advantage - may be all that saves All There Is," she snapped. "You get me?"

Daria was still as she nodded, and then walked over to the window, where the morning sun was just beginning to rise. "You know, with what happened two years ago, I thought that we'd already lived through the end of the world," she said, looking outside. "Surprise. That was just the thirty-second promo trailer, if what you're saying is true."

Valkyrie walked over to stand next to Daria – and both looked out over a landscape better suited for an apocalyptic film, as the street as far ac she could see was crowded with vehicles that looked as if they were now makeshift homes, hundreds upon hundreds of people milling around as they began their new day… in the distance, the thick energy beam from the shield generator array at the former Halcyon Hills Corporate Park was visible as it flowed upward to create the massive energy dome that covered the landscape for twenty miles out from the City of Lawndale, shielding everything beneath from the catastrophic solar storms of the _Daylight Crisis._ "So, I should hope that you're right – and that Judith has let a one-night stand develop very quickly into a bond."

"It happens in films," Valkyrie said, managing a small smile. "In one reality, a universal-class being called Michael Korvac was beaten because in one moment, the expression of woman he loved showed that she was afraid for him because she didn't think that he was strong enough to prevail. That momentary lapse – and the self-doubt he held in that moment - was all the other side needed to bring him down."

She looked at Daria. "Who knows? Maybe there'll come a time when Judith seeing you – or realizing that you could die – is all that stands between the possibility of omniversal destruction."

"You're putting a lot of faith into how much one night in bed with me can mean to someone," Daria observed.

"I've seen the women and men other Darias have had in their lives, and the lengths those people went through for those Darias," the other woman returned. "I believe my faith is justified."

Daria looked back out the window. "I hope so," she said, watching as she saw the masses of people start to follow a group of Ringbearers who flew overhead, heading towards the massive Area Relief Center that had been made from a re-furbished Cranberry Commons – for the foreseeable future, the only place for the vast majority to receive food, water, medical care and the basic essentials of life. "As horrible as the world is now – I don't want to think of worse than this… or nothing at all."

**END**


	21. You'll Never Walk Alone

JUDITH STRIKES!

YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE

by Charles RB

The Lawndale Lions was about to play Fielding with a 2000-strong audience, and no one official had spotted her placing agents & conning patsies through the stadium. Judith was having a _good_ day.

She began to slip out, heading for the exit (she didn't want to be seen around when the fuzz cracked down), but she made sure she'd see the chaos that would erupt in the next twenty seconds. Ah, Fielding. Tom's school. They had this coming.

"Five... four... three... two... one..."

The Fielding team came onto the pitch, and dozens of voices started to sing: "YOU'RE SHIT – AND YOU KNOW YOU ARE! YOU'RE SHIT – AND YOU KNOW YOU ARE!"

Cackling madly, Judith ran out of the stadium, followed closely by her partner in crime.

"Your scheme involves half of those singing not realising Li didn't send those song sheets round," said Jane, raising an eyebrow. "That involves intellect. They'll never stop."

"Hey, I just think American football should be more like Europe's football, is that so bad?" Her eyes glinted ferally. "Maybe we'll get a riot."

"That's you, Judith, always dreaming big."

"Who dares wins."

"Those who can, teach."

"Criminals are a superstitious, cowardly lot."

"And we'd know."

The two of them kissed, hard and fast and sloppily, as always.

"We better get home before Ms Li starts looking for us," said Judith, "as part of her unfair assumptions that we're responsible for 50% of all misfortunes at school. It's 60%."

"Inviting me round, eh?"

"Nah. Sister's at home and the parents are coming in. Yours?"

"Penny just came home for a bit." Jane shuddered. "I wouldn't go home myself if all my stuff wasn't there."

"The world conspires against the Red Deaths once again. We'll have to kneecap it to show who's boss."

The two headed off, black and red and combat booted and with matching belly-button piercings: to a casual eye, they might have looked like a failed attempt at cloning. Few believed that they'd dressed in the same colours _before_ becoming a couple.

Judith had a leisurely walk home, humming You'll Never Walk Alone – there were some _catchy_ footie songs she'd found on that Yahoo search - mentally getting her alibi straight and hoping her willing accomplices could avoid Li's wrath. (Scarlett was pretty good at that sort of thing but Andrea, not so much; hopefully, Scarlett would take charge there) She also hoped Tom would be pissed about the stunt, but, she had to admit, he'd probably found it hilarious. Bastard.

She whacked her house door open and stomped in, calling out: "Sis! Back! We dissed the hell out of your boyfriend's school!"

Nothing. That was odd, there'd be a barbed reply by now surely. "C'mon, I know you're here, it's not like you have a social life to go to!"

Still nothing. Judith began to climb the stairs, warning bells going off: had something happened?

"Daria, snark back already, you're weirding me out."

Daria's room lay open. Every book she'd owned was shredded and scattered about like confetti. Her glasses lay broken on the floor.

And she was tied to a chair, long dead, her belly slit open and her entrails splayed out.

Judith looked calmly at the corpse of her twin sister for an unknown length of time before the screaming started.

–

Her mind wouldn't let her drift through in a fog.

Her sister was dead and her father had had another heart attack at the news and the only lead the police had – the only thing anyone had seen – was that someone in a red cloak had been seen going into the house an hour before. (No, officer, she had no idea who that might be) This was the single worst day of her entire damn life and she wanted to damn well have a mental shutdown.

Instead, her mind picked up that the investigating officer's manner had changed the second time round, when he was asking about the cloaked figure. She'd noticed that another person had come into the room, someone in a suit who clearly wasn't local police (FBI?), and that someone had mentioned a Delphi when she was leaving the station. Her mind prodded at her to pay attention.

Jane was waiting for her. Judith had convinced her mother that Jane would pick her up, that she should go be with Dad – she wanted her mother _here_, she wanted that more than almost anything, but some things took precedent.

"How're you holding up, amiga?" she asked softly.

"I want to stop thinking, Jane. I can't stop thinking and I..."

"Come on. Let's have a nice little walk, eh?"

Judith waited until they were down the street before speaking up.

"This wasn't random. This was a _hit_."

Jane didn't speak, waiting for Judith to explain.

"The brutality was too... _directed_ to be random. Daria's books were destroyed _before_ she was killed, and she was blinded before the end – now how likely is that unless the killer knew something about Daria? And then there's the killer. 'Red Cloak.' Whoever that bastard is, the description brought in the feds, or some other fancy organisation that had the police all twitchy. And the police were mentioning a 'Delphi'."

"Daria mentioned that once," Jane said, her voice quiet. "Delphi's were the Oracles lived in ancient Greece, right?"

"Right. It's clearly a code name for something, an operation or a task force. And a name like that, in law enforcement? That's the sort of thing you use for mob stuff and terrorism."

"So 'Red Cloak' is a very dodgy man."

"Yeah, and someone like that wouldn't go after Daria on their _own_ initiative. I mean, come on, why would they?" Judith's eyes were hard, burning. "So somebody hired them. Somebody local."

"So we...?"

"Go see a man who'd know."

-

When they reached Tom, he looked almost as bad as Judith had – despite herself, despite the loathing she had for him and the sense he wasn't good enough for his sister, she felt a pang of sorrow. He _had_ loved Daria after all.

He listened to Judith's theory and then abruptly left during the middle of it, coming back with a Zip disk.

"Daria left me this as 'insurance', but you clearly guessed that. Everything she'd found out or suspected."

"Let's see what we got."

-

The Morgendorffer twins looked alike and had the same intelligence, but their ethics had differed for as long as they could remember: they joked Daria had got both of their consciences. Judith was always running around getting into trouble, pushing the limits, doing what she shouldn't. Daria, for all her desire to avoid people, had principles and views, and would get into a fury at injustices or hypocrisy.

When they moved to Lawndale, Judith had encouraged Daria to join the school newspaper and indulge her investigative journalism fantasies. It lasted all of two weeks before Principal Li kicked her off but it was too late by then: Daria had grown interested in the seedy underbelly of the school and town.

Stories began to leak out to the local press from a "Lois S. Thompson", someone who was clearly part of the school. Half the school suspected it was Daria (and rightly) but there was no proof, so Li could do nothing except assigning Daria petty tasks (which she did). "Thompson's" stories had done some major damage to Lawndale, especially the expose on the grade fixing for the sports "stars". Ms Morris had to resign after _that_, which served her right for trying to blackmail Jane. (The track team's equipment had also been vandalised, because if Judith couldn't cost people their jobs she could still do _that_)

So Li clearly had it in for Daria. Enough so that Daria would want an off-site backup with a friendly face.

-

"I remember the 'Fizz Ed' story. I thought that stopped Li's deal with UltraCola." Jane tapped the computer screen. "But look, here it comes again, like Jason Voorhees sensing teens having fun."

"I don't know _how_ Daria managed it, but she has to have had a source with UltraCola's middleman agency," said Tom. "There's too much for it to just be her. This is damaging stuff. Li's doing a lot of underhanded stuff to get the deal through this time, before anyone can stop it; the superintendent is helping out; serious money's involved... But is that really enough to kill someone?"

"Look at the figures Daria has her for the school finances," growled Judith. "Look at this shit she dragged up on UltraCola using paramilitaries in the third world to bust unions. And, oh yeah, it's _Li_ and we know she's corrupt."

"Daria slips up or her source gets found out..."

"And the conspiracy decides to 'silence' her. I don't know how many people are involved in this but Li has to be, 'Red Cloak' knew too much about how to hurt Daria."

"So what do we do?" asked Jane.

"I don't know what _I_ do," said Judith pointedly.

"Nuh-uh. I met Daria before I met you, she was one of my best friends."

"That goes double for me," said Tom. "You want to do something, we're both helping. For Daria."

"You both realise that we don't have enough for the police, and we don't have a hope in hell of finding out the sort of things she could have."

"I'm aware of that, Judith."

"Ditto."

Pause. "Okay. Alright. Let's look this over one more time..."

–

In her grief, it was natural Judith would want to be with her girlfriend. No one was going to find that suspicious.

If Tom abruptly got upset and left his house saying he needed to see Jane to talk about Daria, well, that wasn't surprising either.

Trent practicing loudly, so loudly Penny stormed out of the house, not surprising either. Him stopping soon after, hey, he had whims.

As a result, only Trent would have seen that Jane, Judith and Tom had sneaked out the back window, that Tom had brought some vodka bottles from the family wine cellar (bought many years ago and untraceable) and that Jane a red cloak (from an old Red Riding Hood fancy dress costume), and that a car belonging to neighbours known to be on holiday had just driven off.

And Trent saw that the three kids were in Jane's room the whole night. Honest.

-

Li's address was in the phone book. It was in the nice part of town, near to Crewe Neck. Nice and peaceful, and late enough that nobody would be out.

Two windows on the top floor could be her bedroom window. Hitting them with slingshots would involve getting too close for comfort, valuable seconds would be added to the run back to the getaway car, but risks had to be made.

Two Molotov cocktails lit. Two fired through top floor windows through slingshots – one (Jane, who then ran), and then the other (Judith, red cloaked). A few seconds between each shot; everyone who looked out if the window would just see a red cloaked figure running to a car from the scene, a red cloaked figure who'd clearly just struck both windows on their own.

The fire brigade would be out soon, but it'd be too late for Li, she'd have burnt to death before then. A brutally savage murder by a red cloaked figure, and of someone from the same school as Red Cloak's last victim.

"The fed on Op Delphi," Judith had explained, "will hopefully think it's a related hit. They'll start wondering why. When Leonard Lamm reaches a sticky end too – because as the go-between he's got to be in this to his eyeballs – then they're likely to go 'hey, those two dead scumbags worked together once on that UltraCola thing'. It won't be hard to find out Daria broke that story, and that means the common thread is UltraCola. And then they can find out who else was involved..."

The car was quietly returned and the three teens sneaked back into Jane's house, as if they'd never left. A few minutes later, Li's brutal murder was on the television news.

" Dunno how we'll do Lamm," said Tom.

"I'll find a way," said Judith. "I'm very smart. 'I got the looks, she got the brains – and so did I'. Or vice versa, depending on who was telling the joke."

Her voice had started to break. Jane and Tom pretended they didn't notice – they knew her.

"What about after Lamm?" asked Jane.

"After Lamm?" Judith stared into the abyss. "Then the last person we _know_ is involved is 'Red Cloak' himself. And someone out there knows who that is, how to find them... and I _will_ find them."

"You're not walking away from that sort of fight."

"You don't need to come with me."

"Not what she's saying," said Tom. "She's just saying you won't walk away. Just so all three of us know the stakes."

Pause. "Thanks. Truly."

"What can I say?" said Jane. "You're walking into the abyss, but you'll never walk alone."


	22. Symbiosis

JUDITH STRIKES!

SYMBIOSIS

by Silver

No alarms. Barely any noise. Judith hit the ground as softly as she could manage. "No guards. Given the way this world works, they're probably stoned off their asses." She straightened, brushing her crimson cloak off in an almost vain gesture. She smirked, remembering the looks of its creators before she'd taken it. And, for that matter, taken their lives.

She forced her mind back to the task at hand. Her eyes fell on the book, one of several in the museum's exhibit. A book, salvaged from the ruins of Miskatonic University's prestigious Orne Library.

"Go figure they bring it to the capital." She sighed. Chicago wasn't Lawndale, not by a long shot. "Then again," she told herself, "Lawndale really isn't Lawndale in this world." She stepped towards the book, taking in the details.

"The Black Tome of Alsophocus," a voice piped up from behind her. Judith turned. It was the green-jacketed snot nosed-

She caught herself. She couldn't call this Daria "Green-jacketed." That would have implied she was wearing a jacket. Or, for that matter, the usual outfit. Instead, she wore a black and green halter dress with the sides slit so high it nearly embarrassed Judith. And there were the plugs on the waist and shoulders-

Judith shook herself again. Her other self continued. "Part of the restricted collection of the Orne Library. Donated to the library by the Pickman Bequest, and earmarked for the restricted vault by chief librarian Henry Armitage. One of a half-dozen books saved from Miskatonic when the cults overran the eastern seaboard."

Judith sighed in annoyance. Daria stopped, smirking just long enough to make Judith feel uncomfortable. "It's said it holds the secrets of space and time. Is that why you're interested in it?"

"And if it is?" Judith asked, letting her annoyance creep into her voice and her hand into her cloak.

"Then I can't let you take it."

"Fuck you," Judith replied.

"That would be incest, wouldn't it? And _Jane_ would get upset with me. Which would lead to having to deal with _Alma_ getting upset because her mothers are upset..." Daria trailed off, cocking her head to one side.

Judith snapped around, stepping temporarily out of time. The dagger in her hand flashed, and time reasserted itself. She stood, waiting for the snot-nosed bitch to collapse. Daria held up her hand, a glimmering object in her fingers. Judith didn't recognize exactly what until Daria dropped the item at her feet.

It was the blade of the dagger.

"Cute," Daria told her. The comment was followed up with a roundhouse kick to Judith's head. Judith grunted in shock, slamming off the glass case to the floor. Judith forced herself back to her feet.

"You fucking bitch!" Judith snarled at her. Daria simply laughed, stepping forward. She ducked a knife hand strike, blocked a kick. Took the offensive, swung back, knocking Daria back. Judith grinned, producing another knife and swinging almost wildly.

Daria only smirked, dodging all but one of the blows. A thin line of blood marred her otherwise flawless face.

"So you can be hurt," Judith gloated, only to stagger to the side as Daria struck her again.

Judith touched her cheek, her hand coming away with blood. She pulled her hood back, revealing her face. Daria snorted in amusement.

"No wonder you want that book."

Judith didn't bother replying, only stepping up her attacks. Daria danced backwards, finally jumping away from Judith. Judith managed an enraged snarl. Daria smiled sweetly as she licked Judith's blood from her fingernails.

"Not bad," she quipped, causing Judith to raise an eyebrow in surprise. Before the red-cloaked girl could do anything, Daria stepped towards her. "Pity the gloves have to come off now."

Judith watched as something crawled over and around her counterpart, and soon a monster stood where a girl had been instants before. Judith opened her mouth to speak, to throw out some pithy quote. The thing Daria had become managed to cross the floor and backhand her in the short span.

Judith growled, activating the locket. In the space between seconds, she darted forward. Her hand slid under her cloak, coming up with the biggest pistol she could find. She slammed the barrel into the Daria-thing's torso and pulled the trigger. She smelt burnt leather. Her monstrous counterpart didn't even move.

Judith looked at the pistol, then at the thing's "eyes". It's beak opened, and it spoke in Daria's voice.

"_Tager_, dumbass."

Judith's mind processed the fact that it was still the Bitch inside that skin, even as it punched her into the display case. The case shattered, and Judith tumbled to the ground, book in hand. She straightened her glasses (Noting, briefly, that she'd need to get new frames), and looked up as Daria loomed above her.

"I'll take that," Daria growled through her living armor's beak. A monstrous claw grabbed the book. Judith's hand darted into her cloak, came up with a pistol. She aimed just above the wrist and pulled the trigger. Kept pulling until the magazine was spent.

Her counterpart stumbled back with a howl. There was a sicking sound of something being drawn, and Daria brought her arm around. Judith twisted away, crying out at the sharp pain of not having completely evaded it.

"FUCK! BITCH!" Judith snapped, rolling to her feet with book in hand. Daria raised her arm, and Judith stopped herself at the sight of blood dripping along a bone blade projected from its wrist. She glanced down at the tear in her catsuit, and the blood dripping from that. It was a superficial cut; nothing major, but it was deep and did it ever sting.

Judith pulled another gun, and Daria prepared to charge. The doors chose that moment to burst open. Judith noted the cliched timing of it.

"Internal Security! Drop your weapons!"

Judith almost laughed at the cliché of almost a dozen armored troops standing in the doorway. Daria simply turned with what seemed to be resignation. The living armor made it a little hard to tell.

"That thing!" one of the soldiers yelped in surprised. Judith noted, with some dismay, that it was Kevin Thompson. "That's the thing that ate Brittany!"

Judith turned to her counterpart in a mixture of surprised admiration and disgust. "You _ate_ Brittany?"

Daria pointedly ignored her. "Oh, look. The dessert that got away." The armor's chest burst open, and before Judith could blink, Kevin had been dragged by black tentacles into the armor's maw and vanished.

Judith decided it was a good time to leave, and her hand touched her locket. In a burst of blue radiation, she vanished.


	23. A Story About Nothing

_**A Story About Nothing**_

A Judith Strikes! story.

By NightGoblyn

Sequel to _Hungry is the Night_

Sequel to _Heartless_

It was less of a suite of rooms, and more of a connected series of holes in the ground. A small natural cavern system that had been worn smooth through long-term habitation. There was a lot of clutter, and general disarray, but the rooms had a definite air of cleanliness and homeliness. The decor, in general, seemed to be a mix of late middle-ages and seventies-era bachelor pad, but here and there a touch of the female had crept in. Broken down, scarred tables decorated with knit doilies, an old leather easy chair with a pink blanket and cushion piled up on it, and other incongruities scattered about the place.

A warm purple-white light filled the otherwise dimly lit living room, fading to deposit two women onto the threadbare carpet. One was tall, over six feet, wearing white slacks and a matching tank-top. Her dark red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she reached up with one hand to adjust her black horn-rim glasses.

"I hate Ring portals," the second woman said, glaring around at their surroundings. She was dressed in military fatigues in the white and grays of the urban camouflage pattern, but was without a helmet and allowed her auburn hair to sweep around her shoulders. Her goggles glinted greenly as they automatically compensated for the low illumination in the room, and she carefully swept her HK-5 from left to right as she scanned the room.

"You hate a lot of things," the redhead muttered. She conjured a small ball of white light from her Ring and set it floating in the air. "Your contact lives here?"

"Yeah," the second woman answered. "This place is a dump."

"I usually pick up if I know I'm going to have visitors," a male voice growled from the next room over. Both women turned to look, but the shadows concealed their host. All they could see was a pair of yellow eyes reflecting back the light from the floating orb.

"Jack?" the second woman said. "I'm loaded out with black iron bullets. Come out into the light where we can see you, we've got a few questions for you."

The man's tread was heavy as he stepped out into the light. He barely came up past the redhead's waist, but was built like a midget linebacker. He wore a floor-length coat of dark brown leather that creaked as he moved, his shirt seemed made of colorless homespun fabric, and his pants were made of the same leather as his coat. He wore shin-high boots that were entirely made of metal, and on his head was a formless, bright red cap. He smiled, flashing a mouthful of dark grey teeth at the women.

"Agent Cullen," he said, bowing slightly towards the woman pointing a gun at him. "To what do I owe the honor of this entirely unannounced visit to my home, which you have never been invited to."

"This woman has some questions for you," Cullen said. "Something weird happened, and when I was told about it I immediately thought of you."

The man frowned. "Am I being accused of something?"

"No," the redhead said. "But according to my . . . compatriot . . . you're something of an expert on weird."

The man's eyes narrowed as he examined the redhead, and then he smiled broadly again. "My stars and garters, a Morgendorffer. I thought you told me you didn't work with Morgendorffers, Cullen."

"I don't," she answered, gritting her teeth. "I assure you that this is temporary."

The man chuckled darkly. "You're human, everything you do is temporary." He turned his direction towards the redhead. "Well, you've got some questions for Ol' Jack, eh? Well, have a seat and let's make a deal."

The redhead frowned. "I don't make deals with supernatural predators. You'll answer or you'll fry."

Jack started laughing, and eventually staggered to the armchair and collapsed into it with tears running down his cheeks. The two women glared at him while he tried to get himself back under control. After a moment he took a deep, shaky breath and said, "Cullen didn't brief you on how to deal with the Fae, did she?"

"No."

"Yeah, look, sister, I ain't a zombie or a vampire or whatever you usually deal with. You can't wave your little magic ring at me and make me go away. If you want something out of me, you have to pay for it, just like everybody else." He stood, picked up a soda can from the table, and swallowed it in two bites. "But that was a really good laugh you gave me there, I ain't laughed like that in decades. You get the first piece of information in payment for that laugh."

The Ringbearer looked over at the other woman, who shrugged noncommittally. "Fine. We recently lost three Ringbearers. They were lured to a world that seemed to be filled with . . . well, we don't know precisely. Ghosts? Undead of some kind, at any rate, and there were huge numbers of them. Probably the entire world's former living population, anyway. And something was able to reach through the image we were watching of the girls' last few minutes and try to attack us."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Jack said, his tone almost sincere.

"You little bastard." The redhead stepped forward, dug her hands into the lapels of his coat and pulled him up onto his toes. She leaned over and put her long, shapely nose up to his short, pug one, and growled, "What do you know about it? You know where that place is? What lives there?"

"That's three questions, Princess," the man said. "And I'll thank you to get your hands off the leather."

"Answer me," she shouted, shaking him.

With a snarl, he back-handed her across the room, her shields flaring at the contact and again as she impacted the wall opposite, leaving a large crack in the stone wall. She stood, electricity arcing off her Ring as she prepared to defend herself.

"I am Jack None," he snarled, seeming to grow taller and darker. "A am a Lord of the _Tuatha de Dannan_, I am the reason humans are afraid of the night. You are in my home and you will show some respect, or I will have your bones in my soup pot!"

"I'm Ronnie Morgendorffer, and I'm gonna be the last thing you see," the redhead said, lancing bolts of pure Quintessence out of her Ring at the nightmare apparition looming in front of her.

Jack laughed loudly as his body absorbed the energy. "You attack me with the energy of life. I, who helped speak the Word that was the purest form of that energy?"

"Crap," Ronnie said. "I'm pretty sure I can get us out of this, but I'd be happy to hear any suggestions you might have."

Lynn rolled her eyes, raised her gun, and pulled the trigger. The only result was a loud snap, and she looked down at the weapon with a wounded expression. "So, that was my firing pin, and I've got nothing. Can that Ring of yours create a couple of tons of cold-wrought iron to dump on his head?"

"Iron, huh?" Ronnie asked, smirking. "I might be able to come up with something."

"Father?"

Abruptly the titanic figure of swirling darkness was just Jack again, and he turned toward the door he'd come from previously. A teenage girl stood in the doorway in a dress of simple cut, but seemingly spun of moonlight and morning dew. Her hair, a brighter shade of red than Ronnie's, was long enough to nearly sweep the floor.

"Yes, Pumpkin? Father is busy with guests right now, go back to your room."

"Quinn!"

The teenage girl looked up at Ronnie with curiosity. "The people in my dreams call me Quinn, sometimes. Did I dream you?"

"Uh," Ronnie said.

"Great, philosophy," Cullen muttered.

The teenager came into the room and put one tiny hand on the brute's arm. "Father, you've been woken up early, you know how cranky you can be when that happens. I've drawn you a hot bath, let me talk to our guests."

He muttered and grumbled a bit, looking back and forth between the intruders and his daughter. "Oh, very well," he finally muttered. "But you cry out if they try to hurt you."

"I will, Father," the girl assured him. When he'd left the room, she turned and looked at the other two women. "I heard you talking from the doorway. I'm sorry about what happened to your friends."

"Nieces," Ronnie said.

"Oh, then I'm very sorry. And I apologize for Father, he's been upset since that woman came here. She stole one of his old treasures and he just hasn't felt right since."

"Woman?" Ronnie asked, then shook her head. "Never mind, that's not what were here for. The place where my nieces died, what can you tell me about it?"

"Oh, that place," the girl got a far-away look and her voice softened. "I'm not allowed there, it's a bad place and I'm not strong enough to go until I've finished taking my medicine."

"Uh-huh." Ronnie blinked a couple of times and then shook her head. "Well, I'm pretty sure we can go, so why don't you tell us about it. Where is it, what lives there?"

"Oh, Nothing lives there," the girl said.

"Did you . . . ." Ronnie started at ask.

"Hear the capitalization of the word 'nothing'?" Cullen finished. "Yeah, you get used to that when you deal with Them."

Ronnie frowned at the other woman a moment, then turned back to the girl. "Nothing?"

"Yes, and quite a lot of it, I'm afraid," she answered with a small sigh. "It's very angry, you know, since it was here first it feels like it's been very poorly treated by all the Something. It's usually only possible to go Nowhere if you try very hard, I'm not sure how your nieces could have gotten there by accident. Surely they knew what it was."

"They were lured there, they thought somebody was in trouble and needed help."

"Oh," Quinn said sadly. "Well, nothing lies like Nothing, you know. You can't trust a word it says, at least that's what Father told me."

"I've never seen a grin without a cat before," Lynn muttered, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ward off a headache. "I hate dealing with Fae."

"She's not a Fae."

"Wait."

Ronnie turned back to Quinn, who had been waiting patiently for the bickering to stop. "Fine, fine. So, how do we get there?"

"You want to go Nowhere?"

"Yes," Ronnie said, a small grin cracking her face. "I want to go Nowhere as quickly as possible."

"I'm afraid I can't help you," Quinn said. "You see, Father can simply go because of his nature, and someday I won't be sick anymore and so shall I. But you'd have to have the Key and I'm afraid I simply can't let you have it."

"But I need it," Ronnie said, a note of pleading in her voice.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, shaking her head. "It's completely out of the question."

"I'd bring it back when I'm done with it."

"I'm sure you would, if you lived to do so," Quinn answered. "And that'd certainly be more of a chance than we've got now, for, you see, the Key that Unlocks Nothing is what the Angry Woman stole from Father!"

~fin~


	24. The Rise and Fall of DD Morgan

_**JUDITH STRIKES: **_

_**THE RISE AND FALL OF D.D. MORGAN AND THE SANITY ASSASSINS**_

_**by Brian Taylor**_

_**Daria**_** characters ©2010 MTV Networks**

You've seen the video by now, haven't you? The one filmed during her final concert? Of course you have.

Sure, you can lie about it. You can say you don't want to see anything like it. It offends your sensibilities. You never liked her music, anyway, you say during parties, eyes darting furtively over to the CD cabinet just to make sure nobody catches you in the lie.

But then, you said the same thing about the Zapruder film, and how many times have you seen Kennedy's dying moments?

Head goes forward. Head goes back.

Lights go out.

This is the same thing. Why deny it?

She's ending the most hypnotic version of "Only When it Rains" you've ever heard, yeah? Power chord after power chord, strung together in a perfect incantatory line, a spell from some ancient time made very real in the here and now.

Her voice holds on the last howled word until the ringing in the audience's ears goes away. She's low, monotonal, roughly roaring from the depths of some kind of torment that you'd always hoped was an act.

She steps up to the mic, short and thin, wearing black like she's born to it. But she's not wearing the necklace tonight, the silver-plated bone that lore says came from her hand and common sense says came from a chicken farm.

"I know where I came from," she says, low, sardonic. "And I know where I'm going to. But where did all you zombies come from? And once I'm gone, where will you be?"

And then she does something nobody has ever seen her do on stage before. She, D.D. Morgan, the one we called the Misery Chick, the one we worshiped as our own dark goddess? She smiles.

Big, wide, and very real.

There's a bright and hollow flash behind her head, a hot halo burning her thin oval face into the minds of everybody in the front five rows.

Two loud cracks, narrow and nasty, from somewhere backstage.

Head goes forward. Head lolls back.

Lights go out.

Yeah, you've seen it. I knew you had.

You can't forget it, can you?

And you can't stop wondering about it, either.

You're wondering where the shots came from. Nobody saw a gun. The guards saw a woman in red and black for a split second. In, then out, almost like she'd never been there.

You're wondering where her necklace disappeared to. Because you're a fan, yeah? You know she never took it off.

You're wondering if it's true, like they say, that some obsessive fan went around the bend and took her out in an act of - what? Jealousy? Anger?

You're wondering what the flash was.

But what you're really wondering is, why was she smiling?

Patience, like the man said. Truth is like blood.

It's compulsory, you see.

–

_Excerpt of a prison interview with Jane Lane._

**Thursday, April 18, 2002.**

_The interview took place at 12:00 p.m. in the visitation room of the Maryland House of Corrections in Jessup, MD. The interviewer is Bill Gamble, freelance journalist._

_Excerpt begins._

Gamble: From looking at your history, you appear to be what we'd call a solitary kid. Is that fair to say?

Lane: From looking at your tie, you appear to be an idiot. Is _that_ fair to say?

Gamble: Your records indicate middling grades, an anti-authoritarian streak, and self-esteem issues.

Lane: The school shrink put me in that class because I made some wisecrack about Goya she didn't like very much. I stayed in the class because having low self-esteem made me feel special, and it gave me something to do with my afternoons. (beat) Come on, Billy. If you're trying to make me look like a killer for all of your readers, the least you could do is punch me square in my abandonment issues and kick me right in my troubled home life.

Gamble: Your sarcasm's not amusing, Ms. Lane.

Lane: Yet I _feel_ like laughing. But I guess it could just be gas.

Gamble: You're facing life in prison, and you're cracking jokes. Unbelievable.

Lane: Thanks so much for reminding me about that. Between the jumpsuit and the handcuffs, I'd completely forgotten.

Gamble: Can we move on?

Lane: I dunno. _Can_ we?

Gamble: What was it about D.D. Morgan's music that appealed to you?

Lane: It had a beat and you could kick puppies to it. Is there going to be a point to this, or should I have brought a sketch pad and a felt pen?

Gamble: I'm trying to figure out why you killed her.

Lane: I didn't.

Gamble: You match the description of the shooter.

Lane: Dark blur. Possibly red around the edges? Seen for about half a second? Half the chicks in the joint matched that description.

Gamble: None of the others had backstage access.

Lane: My brother's band was her opening act, and I used to be an informal roadie. So what?

Gamble: Witnesses saw you in an altercation with Ms. Morgan an hour before showtime. Would you care to tell me what that was about?

Lane: Would you care to go to hell?

Gamble: Can you please answer my question?

Lane: (sigh) You know how I felt when I found out my brother's band was opening for her in Lawndale? I felt like I'd just landed on the fucking moon. I mean, this was D.D. Morgan. _The_ fucking Misery Chick herself, okay? Do you know what I'm saying?

Gamble: Yeah, I do.

Lane: No, you don't. You can't. Say you're seventeen years old. You've had exactly one boyfriend, and he threw you under the bus once you put out so he could go sniffing after the next _pretty_ thing to come along. Everybody in town thinks your family's dogshit. Your parents are never in the same country as you, let alone each other. The rest of your family ran as far as they could just as soon as they were able. All you have is you, your brother, and the dawning realization that you'll never go anywhere and you'll never make anything out of yourself, okay?

Gamble: Okay.

Lane: And then one day there's this chick singing this song on the radio. "Every Season Ends." You don't know where this song comes from. You don't know where this chick comes from. But you like it, because she sounds just like you. She's angry, lost, and so fucking tired of laying back and taking it. Maybe the world is a terrible, fucked-up place. Maybe every one of our stories is going to have the same rotten ending. So long as you were listening to the Assassins, you weren't crawling through the muck alone. Because you knew D.D. had been there, same as you. And _my_ brother was opening for her. So I'd have a chance to meet her. Yeah, I was excited about that, and yes, it hurt when she turned out to be more of the same, but...

Gamble: I get that, but -

Lane: No, you really don't. Sure, she was a dick. Maybe she'd puffed on the wacky tobaccy and this was her when she stoned. Maybe she'd chased a few dragons into her cave. I don't know. I don't really care. She just didn't want to hear me tell her how much her music meant to me. Didn't want to shake my hand. Didn't want anything to do with me. Did it hurt? Yeah. Yeah, it did. I'm not going to lie about that. But I was used to that, so what was one more disappointment? Why the fuck would I shoot her for that?

Gamble: The prosecution produced experts who claimed that being rejected by the object of your idol fixation was the catalyst for a chain reaction.

Lane: Yeah, well. Her family could _afford_ an attorney who could produce experts to pin the fucking tail on some donkey. All my brother could afford for me was Junior Bumfucker's less talented cousin Skeezits. I'm not here because I killed her. I'm here 'cause the "idol" got broken and somebody had to pay for it. Because nobody in the world gives a fuck about me except for my brother, and because he can't even afford gas money half the time, it was my ass they pinned it to.

Gamble: So if it wasn't you, who did kill her?

Lane: The fuck should I know? Maybe it was an obsessed fan. Fuck, maybe it was her traveler. The only thing I know is it wasn't me, but nobody else seems to care about that. So what else is new?

Gamble: I'm sorry. Her 'traveler?'

Lane: Yeah, her traveler. You've never heard her music, have you?

Gamble: I'm afraid not.

Lane: Then you don't know shit, do you? And there's no reason for me to keep talking to you, is there?

_Excerpt ends._

–

_The following interview was broadcast, in part, during the November 11, 2001 episode of __**Under the Melody**__._

**Under the Melody: How did you end up playing guitar in The Sanity Assassins?**

Monique Collins, Guitarist: How I came to play guitar for the Assassins is, the last guy quit about three weeks before the tour behind the first disc started. This was the summer of... '96? I met him a couple of years later. Good guy. Good guitarist. Completely wrong kind of temperament to work with D.D. for longer than a few weeks at a time. He was one of those guys who needed to feel like he was in the loop, and with D.D., you never really could be.

Anyway, I was in another band at the time. Me, my friend Brenda, and a couple of other chicks we'd graduated from high school with. Wasn't much, just bored community college kids jamming on bad Siouxsie covers in Brenda's parents' garage. Of course we'd heard D.D.'s first record; "Pan-Demonium" was the big single that summer, and it was actually good. D.D. was doing the kind of stuff we were starting to want to do ourselves.

So when word got around D.D. was looking for a new axeman, Brenda twisted my wrist to send in a tape. She asked me, 'What's the worst that can happen? You get ignored. What's the best that can happen? You get rich and laid by every hot guy on four continents.' What can I say? I liked the idea. [Laughs.]

So we recorded some stuff on Brenda's four-track, quick and dirty. Our arrangement of Siouxsie's "Into the Light," our version of "Pan-Demonium," this song Brenda and I'd written which we called "Apocalypso Now," and a long solo piece I was messing around with. Next day, Brenda sends the tape in for me, 'cause I'm too nervous to actually do it myself. And I try to put it all out of my mind, because whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen, right?

A week later, I'm coming home from my day shift at Cluster Burger, and there's D.D. standing on my parents' front porch. This freaky little imp, dressed in black from head to toe despite the fact it's 100 degrees outside. "Miss Collins," she says. "I'm D.D. Morgan. I believe we should make music together."

**And that was it?**

And that was it. I spent a week learning all of the songs from the album. I remember listening to every track on the album thirty seconds at a time, pausing and rewinding so I could learn all the changes. I spent another week after that rehearing with the rest of the Assassins. Then we were on the road.

**How'd you feel about it?**

Excited. No, wait. Not just excited. Exhilarated. Like, my heart's racing, and my hands are shaking, and I kind of wanted to leap in the air and scream and I kind of wanted to pass out at the same time. A few weeks earlier, I was some go-nowhere goth kid in a suburban garage band who spent her afternoons spitting in assholes' milkshakes. And then, just like that, I'm playing guitar in a real band with a real album going on a real tour.

**What was touring with the Sanity Assassins like?**

Touring was, um, unusual. [Laughs.] Let's just say there was never a dull moment. People talk about it being a grind, and it kind of was after a while despite the fans and all the cool folks you'd meet. But with D.D., it wasn't just a grind. It was also a non-stop roller coaster ride of unpredictable... stuff.

**Can you give us some examples?**

One night, and this was about six weeks after I'd joined, we had a gig in New Mexico. D.D. played the show perfectly. She was really good about that, no matter what else was going on. After, she disappeared. She turned up two days later on the roof of some skyscraper in Santa Fe, half-naked, speaking in tongues to some buzzard which had landed next to her. Claimed she'd dropped three tabs of acid and wandered into the desert looking for spiritual communion or something. I was pretty pissed off.

**Enough to quit?**

Well, I didn't want to quit just yet. This was still a big break for me, right? And you know rock stars and their drugs. I will say I never saw her do that again. But then, D.D. never liked to repeat herself.

**So she found new ways to keep things interesting?**

You could say had a knack for inventive disruption. I'd say more, but I don't think the statute of limitations has run out yet. [Laughs] If you didn't know her, you might have thought she was just weird. If you did know her - well, as much as anybody ever did know her, which I would say is not very much at all - she wasn't just weird. In some ways, she could be downright spooky.

**Such as?**

She always called me "Miss Collins." Three years I'm down in the foxhole with this chick. That's two world tours, three records, and thirty songs I co-wrote with her. Most people, they at least call you by your first name somewhere in there. She _never_ did. And with all of that touring going on, you get a lot of opportunities for - well, let's just say Brenda was right about the best-case scenario. [She smiles wryly.] But D.D.? I never saw her with anybody. Not once in three years. Boy. Girl. Dog. Pony. I never even saw her window-shopping. If she had any flings, or affairs, or even stupid one-night-stands brought on loneliness and adrenaline - it'd be a surprise to me. She could be a lot darker, too.

**In what way?**

One time, I find her in the dressing room after a gig, going full Hamlet with some skull. I don't say anything at first, because hey, this is D.D. Morgan. In some moods, she _would_ have a serious conversation with a skull, just to watch you react. But this time... I dunno. I don't think she knew I was there, or cared that I was if she did know.

"Hey, D.D.," I finally say, "who's your friend?" She looks at me like I've just interrupted her last conversation with a dying mother.

"Just talking to myself," she says, turning to face me with this strange look on her face. And now I can see that there's this giant ragged hole in the skull's forehead.

"Oh," I say. "Where'd you get the skull?"

"It was a gift," she says. "A reminder from a fellow traveler. If you'll please excuse me, I need to go now." The way she beat feet out of the room, man, it's like she was really offended by the intrusion.

**And was she?**

I don't know. I do know I never saw the skull again. But I couldn't stop thinking about that conversation when I found out how she'd died... [She trails off.] Like I said: she could be really spooky.

**Was that one of the reasons you left the band in 1999?**

Everybody says personal differences, right? Let's just leave it there. I was in her band for three years. I played guitar for her, and I wrote songs with her, and after a while we just couldn't work together anymore. Everything else is between me and D.D. She can't say anything about it now, and I won't.

END.


	25. Would It Help to Close Your Eyes?

**Judith Strikes: **

**Would It Help to close Your Eyes?**

**By OverlordMikey**

Judith appeared in the middle of the street. She was ready for whatever the world might throw... there was nothing. It wasn't what wasn't but what should have been. This was a populated world - there should be people - people who would pose a threat to her. Yet when she appeared no one. She had brought two armed men with her to keep the fools who attacked her at distracted since she didn't have time to kill everyone, yet they where gone as well.

Judith opened her mouth but no sound came out. _What the hell? _

"You are one filled with the lust for blood, but that is ok." Came a women's voice - it was soft and filled with love. It's tone made even Judith feel as if everything was at peace. She felt close to this women... It was as if nothing was wrong with the situation she was in. "Take a seat." Judith found herself listening. She sat in a chair, but her mind kept saying.

_Why is a chair here in the middle of the street? Where the hell are the people!_

"Sorry I can't offer you pizza. Still your worrying about nothing kid." The voice made her feel relaxed well the facts made her want to kill. But hearing this person made her feel happy. Just then an old women came into view. Judith couldn't make out her face - it was shrouded in a large cloak of red. Judith reach into her cloak - or would have except that it was gone. She was dressed in her normal clothes - the clothes she used to wear in her world. "What happens here is of little consequence to the you running around out there."

"Who are you?" Judith asked - she must be losing her mind. _No that's not it. It must be a trap!_

"An old women is trapping you - or are you trapping yourself. You can't find your way home am I correct?"

"I just want to-"

"Do you now?" The old women patted Judith's head. Judith was livid with rage.

_You can't treat me like that!_

"Listen closely dear - give it me..."

Judith was puzzled. _Give her what?_ Yet her arm reached into her pocket and pulled out a compass.

"That's it dear."

"What is it?"

"It's a troubling item that will only bring you bad luck. It let one see countless worlds and stories through another's eyes. Those who don't know how it works pay the price of never finding their way home from their dream."

_Wait, I don't have anything like that - I was looking for... I'm..._

"Just hand it to me."

As Judith handed it over her body began to get younger. The old women held the girl closely as she wept. "It's okay Daria - your not Judith and you won't be anymore."

-

Daria woke up from a strange dream, her breathing heavy. She noticed she was not in her room. She was in a hospital bed. By her bed side sat her father asleep sitting up.

"D-dad?"

Jake woke up. "Daria!" He yelled as he hugged her. "Your awake!"

"W-what happened?"

Jake let go and remained quiet for a moment. He finally sighed and answered her. "You where in a car crash - your mom. She..." He began to trail off.

"Dad..."

"We're leaving Highland kiddo - this place is..." He began to trail off again.

"Is mom alright?"

"She'll be okay kiddo. She just needs to rest."

"What about the baby?"

Jake couldn't hold back the tears. He held Daria close. "Kiddo I'm - Your not gonna be a big sister for awhile."

"D-dad! What happened! Was it the crash?"

"It'll be okay- I found a really nice job in a place called Lawndale and your mom's gonna go back to work... we'll be ok...You'll make friends and..." He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself - not his daughter. Daria hugged him back. _The strange dream far gone...but was reality any better?_

-

An old women stood alone on a street in the middle of the night. Judith approached her.

"Pretty gutsy of you to invite me here."

"I suppose..." The women said with a smile.

"Don't think I'm going to be merciful because your old, but a one on one duel with you seems unfair even for me."

"Your right - the odds are against you." The women said as she reached into her cloak. "We start..." Before Judith could sense anything the figure was jumping at her with a broadsword in her hands.

"How the hell?" Judith responded as she quickly moved out of the way.

"Your reflexes should be faster than that - I thought you didn't take pity on old women."

"Your cloak!" The women jumped at her again, Her strength and dexterity would make even the most hardened warriors weep. Judith just barely dodged.

"Judith... your crime is the unjustified murder of many. You have committed acts of unspeakable evil. You have taken joy out of other being raped, beaten-"

Judith tried to take this chance to attack. She pulled out a handgun, but the women seemed to disappear.

"maimed, and murdered... your are a heinous excuse for a human being."

"And what? Your going to punish me?" Judith said showing no sign of regret.

"No..." A compass came falling down in front of her. "This is what you want... take it."

Judith stood silently. "You are already aware that there are others that can defeat you - either because they have nothing holding them back or simply because they are more skilled." Judith felt anger rising.

"Shut up! I have nothing holding me back either! I will not fail! Come out here so I can..." Judith paused as the women appeared before her without her hood. "J-Jane..." Judith said shocked.

An older Jane Lane stood before her - her gray hair tied back in a pony tail. Wrinkles had begun to form, but she was unmistakable. "Take the compass and get the hell out of my sight -"

Judith hesitantly raised her gun.

"What makes you hesitate?" Jane gave her a kind smile. "You've killed me before."

_S...she wants me to shoot - yeah that's it! I won't do what she wants! I don't listen to others commands! But killing her is necessary - she might try to stop me...Jane..._

"Rationalize it all you want- regardless why...It is because I'm Jane Lane, but... I don't see you as Daria Morgendorffer. The only reason your not dead is because you have to be alive…" With that she was gone. Judith didn't see where she went and found she didn't care. She reached down and picked up the compass.

_I..I will win. _

Judith felt like her mind was slipping - but that she was certain of. No matter what happened she would come out on top... she had to come out on top... With that Judith was gone...


	26. And It Would Come to Pass

**Judith Strikes!: **

**And It Would Come To Pass**

by OverlordMikey

Judith sat alone waiting. Of course it would take an army to stop the girl so she was unafraid of a few monsters living in some fantasy world.

"So your Judith..." Came the voice of a women. Out walked a finely dressed young women with long black hair wearing a long red dress and red gloves that covered her arms.. She had a devilish smirk and her eyes shined with a twisted intellect. She slowly walked into the room followed by another women "Your the girl of the hour so to speak - be less gloomy. It reflects badly on me and my people if I hire someone so..."

"I just want what I came for..."Judith said coldly. "Tell me my mission so I can get out of here."

"How dare you speak to her majesty in such a way!" Yelled the other women. Or to be more precise demoness. She wore a long tight black dress with a lab coat over it, a pair of spectacles, with flowing light brown hair. Horned sat atop her head and large black wings on her back. "No one speaks to the great Angel Li Fey in such a disgraceful manner!"

"Now-now my dear Judith is our guest. We asked you here to do a job that I personally know you would enjoy..." Judith just stared at them coldly. This world version of Ms. Li and Ms. Manson may be the worst yet. Still killing them wasn't an option much to Judith's dismay. "I request you kill the heirs to the Morgendorffer Legacy - Daria and Quinn. You see according to a prophecy a Morgendorffer of my world will be key to my demise. The only bane to my immortality. Dispose of them during the party to celebrate the soon-to-be marriage of your counterpart. Then I will gladly give you my staff. I assume you are aware of it's many uses. What I offer you is more power than the job your doing for me is worth as I am sure you know."

Judith just nodded. "Splendid! I don't care how you do it - just get rid of them and make it quiet and quick." With that Judith turned her back. "Oh right and Judith - bring me their heads! Do it - for the Glllooory of my Empire"

It's not the Judith had a problem with killing her green jacketed bitch of a other self or her sister. Hell she had done worse to them that that. It was that taking orders from this bitch and bringing glory to her empire was enough to make her want to cut her own throat. She wanted to throw up, but continued moving forward.

-

The ballroom was marvelous, but Daria wasn't all that invested. She looked down to the large and flowing green dancing dress she wore. As she studied it in a shameful way Jane of the Elves of Lane came to her. Jane her dearest friend jokingly curtsied to her. "Well well the future Queen looks regal."

"I can't stand this - they are making a huge fuss over Tom's proposing..."

"Heh of course - in this kingdom they need something to celebrate or they'd go mad." Jane looked at Quinn who danced with man after man. Every Lord and even a few Ladies wanted to dance with her. She was currently dancing with the Princess Danielle Todds of the Queen Dom of Egipty and the both seemed quite smitten with each other. Jane sipped some wine as she watched. "If your not going to dance... Wanna go to the balcony?"

"Sure..." Daria responded. They headed out to the balcony and looked out across the night sky.

"Tom sure is a lucky basterd..."

"What are you talking about?" Daria asked her friend.

"N-nothing. Hey hold right there, it's a party and you have no drink - I'll go get something for you." Jane ran off before Daria could say she didn't have to. Daria stood alone with her thoughts as her sister came to join her.

"That Danielle is quite the dancer - I may even dance with her a second time. If I'm correct we attended the same Girls Academy. Do you think she remembers me?"

"I'm surprised your so excited by another women."

"Gender isn't important to me."

"So what is - looks?"

"You know... I'm not sure..." Quinn place her drink on the side of the balcony and took a large breath of fresh air. "I'm just happy to be alive right now." Quinn noticed her sister looked upset. "Dear sister is something bothering you?"

"It's Jane - she seems to be acting odd."

"Daria...you really don't know." Quinn looked into her sister's eyes. "Daria Jane l-" Quinn's eyes widened. A pained expression crossed her face. She then slumped to the ground in pain.

Daria looked mortified at her sisters attacker. Herself in a red cloak. "Who are you?"

"I get tired of that question." Judith voice seemed bored an apathetic. She raised the blade she used to cut down Quinn and swung it through Daria's neck beheading the girl. She then looked back at Quinn and began to stomp her head in.

_What's wrong with me! It's driving me mad! I'm not going crazy!_ She barely noticed someone sneaking up on her until she sliced the person down. Afterwards she noticed it was Jane. She stood over the body a moment with a pained look on her face. She was unarmed, a glass of punch spilled beside.

_I could have avoided killing this Jane...Jane...JANE...JANE! No I had to kill her! I Had to! She was going to attack me!_ Judith began to laugh before screaming. "No one can take me down! I'll never lose again!" She cut off Quinn's head and store the sister's heads in her cloak. She then jumped off the ledge and used her pendent to escape as people ran to see what the commotion was. The horror they saw sent a shock throughout their world.

-

In a large empire to the south however the prepared for war against the others as Judith left that world with Angel Li Fey's Staff in her hands...  
**  
The End**


	27. The Legion Encounters I

_The Legion Encounters – Part I___

_Pizza Night With The Girls___

A _Legion of Lawndale Heroes__ 'Mini', by Brother Grimace_

_(Note: This fic, which takes place a week after the events of LLH 13:9, is part of the '__Judith Strikes__!' shared world continuity.)_

Daria Morgendorffer sipped at her glass of ice water, and watched a very familiar female form appear in her _Legion Tower_ apartment where the blue flash of light appeared a bare moment before.

"Hello," she said, causing the young woman in the catsuit and red cloak to stop in surprise. "Looking for something?"

The woman turned around, lifting her cloak to reveal her face as she turned, and Daria found herself facing _Judith_ – her doppelganger. "Before you make any threats or do anything stupid – look around you," Daria said, pointing towards the kitchen.

Judith turned to see an attractive, dusky-skinned young woman slightly older than her at the breakfast nook, a French fry in her right hand, and a tall, leggy redhead who stood next to her as she nibbled on a barbecue chicken wing.

The young woman, dressed in a night-black version of the USAES _Elite Academy_ uniform the redhead wore (with a braided silver-and-white cord off her left shoulder - a prominent gold thread entwined inside the cord), gave Judith a gaze designed to freeze over large bodies of water. "Nice to meet you - in person," she said, her French-accented voice holding absolutely no measure of pleasure in her tone. "Sorry about nearly parting your hair with the plasma rifle last time."

"That's Amorette Molyneux – and the redhead's Julia Carlyle," Daria said, as Judith gave the French-Canadian beauty a scowl – and at that moment, a tall, leggy girl with short blonde hair and the same uniform as Julia came through the front door. "That's Kelly Springer. They're friends of mine –and they're here to make sure you behave while we talk."

"A telepath? Please," Judith scoffed, hate in her voice as she looked Daria over closely – and gave Amorette a glare of equal hatred. "Look, you snot-nosed bitch, I _know_ how to deal with telepaths. Wanna see?"

Judith's eyes went wide as she reached into her cloak, but had her hand jerked back as someone grasped her left shoulder, spun her around – and her field of vision suddenly focused on the razor-sharp javelin held in Zoey Robertson's rock-steady right hand, the point barely an inch away from her baby-brown left eye.

"_The Powers That Be_ made it clear – we can't end you," the tall, honey-skinned beauty hissed, her sea-green eyes fixed on Judith in the manner of a predator with prey in its grasp. "You make a move that's not right, though – and I'll take one of those eyes of yours. Try to put your paw in that cloak again, bitch, and you'll be minus one paw."

For the first time since her trip to that Earth with the Lloigor, Judith felt a touch of fear; she recognized the resonance javelin in Zoey's grasp for what it was – _even more deadly than you realize at the moment, Robertson - I've seen one of your javelins seriously injure even those __Planeswalkers_ – and decided not to struggle… especially after glancing over and seeing the tiny 'Mona Lisa' smile on the Legionnaire Daria Morgendorffer's face.

"Daria, you need some more of that scented liquid soap – oh," a perky redhead that could only be Quinn Morgendorffer said, looking Judith over. "She's here already – hey, she DOES look just like you! Oh, darn, and so's the pizza! Can we at least put the pizza away before we have to fight her?"

The sound of clinking bottles followed by a refrigerator closing, heralded the appearance of a superbly fit young woman with short brown hair holding a six-pack of Ultra-Cola. "We won't have to fight her, Quinn," Maryann Lyter said, filching a thick pork sparerib from Julia's plate of barbeque goodies as she headed into the living room and put the cold soda on the table. "We just have to make sure that she behaves. She's here for a pickup."

"You got that right, Quinn," Jane Lane responded, walking into the apartment, Stacy Rowe and Sandi Griffin walking in behind her. "If she thinks she's doing anything else besides that, she's wrong."

Zoey stepped back as Jane leaned over Judith's right shoulder and cackled in her ear. "_We'll get you, my pretty – and your little cloak, too!"_

Judith gasped, and then scowled, as Jane pulled away and then smacked Judith's cat-suited bottom. "Mmm – _firm_," she rumbled in a husky tone, smirking as Kelly gasped and the Legionnaires shook their heads in unison. "Evil girl's been working out. Compared to her, Dar, you've got 'buns of gold'… they may be twenty-four karat, but they're still a little too - _malleable_, y'know?"

"Momma said not to play with your food," Sandi spoke in a toneless voice; as she did, it seemed as if the temperature dropped a full thirty degreed inside the apartment.

Using her peripheral vision to sweep the room, Judith's eyes swept the room, and she noted that of the young women in the room, only three – Zoey, Amorette and Sandi – never took their eyes off her. _They're the ones with __red braids__ - the __executioners__,_ the young woman thought, assessing the three of them. _In this reality, brainy nerd-girl Sandra Griffin's an ass-kicker; between those three, I'll never get what I need and get out while fighting all of them – and why didn't my temporal portal work? Why didn't all of the Kevins come through, and cause the distraction they were supposed to?_

"She's wondering why the portals she created in the spaces that were to become _Legion MTAC_ and the cafeteria a thousand years ago didn't manifest as they were supposed to," Daria spoke up, getting a slice of pizza from one of the boxes. "That locket she has keeps me from getting a lot from her, but her surface thoughts are blasting all over the place."

"Especially how much she wants to kill you slowly with a lot of sharp pieces of metal, and smear you all over the apartment," Amorette spoke as she sat down next to Daria and helped herself to a slice. "Knowing what we know about you, I can almost understand why you're so disturbed – but murder is a no-no… and I'm not thrilled about you trying to flash-fry one of my people."

The confused look on Judith's face made Amorette sigh. "You'll see, soon enough. Oh, yes – sorry about the plasma burns," she continued, before biting into her slice. "I didn't know then what I know now."

Judith was very careful in her movements – especially since Zoey held her javelin in a manner that suggested that she could slice her open in a heartbeat, and the girl in the USAES uniform (like Julia's, with a black skirt and a scarlet uniform shirt) held the weapon in a rock-steady grip.

"Sorry about the distractions – well, if they had worked," she said, shrugging as she slid into the chair Daria pointed her to. "Would you mind telling me where – and _when_ – my, well, for lack of a better word, minions – went?"

"The _Novaya Zemlya_ island territory – October 30, 1961," Daria said, her eyes filled with ice as she spoke. "You could always try to… pop in, and find them. I wouldn't, though. It was unseasonably hot that day. Lots of cloud cover, too."

The way a small smile went across Sandi's face at Daria's words almost made Judith shudder.

Glancing away from her (and noting how the fingers of Sandi's fingers right hand kept caressing the collapsed PFT baton on her lap), Judith nodded as she turned back to Daria, a smile of grudging respect on her lips. "Nice," she said. "Most people would have gone for Pompeii, or the Mariana Trench – but you've got style. How'd you manage it?"

"_Ancient Chinese secret,"_ Jane purred, running the tip of her index finger around the edge of Judith's right ear, and smiling as Daria's temporal counterpart shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Oh, and speaking of secrets – Daria, why don't you introduce Judith here to your new boarders?"

Daria turned to her sister. "Quinn – could you open the bedroom door-?"

Quinn nodded; seconds later, the air was filled with cries of **MEW! MEW! MEW! MEW MEW!** as two small kittens sprang through the opened door and dashed into the living room, crying out at the tops of their voices!

"Say hello to Sissy," Daria said, as a tiny tortoise-shell blur bounded about the room with amazing agility and energy, happy to be out and even happier that she had loads of people to give her treats. "She's a little fireball, isn't she?"

_If I had my way, she_ would _be,_ Judith thought quite loudly, quite aware of how her cloak had begun quivering frantically for the briefest of moments and then, went completely slack as Daria picked up the other kitten – a black kitten with a white snout and white front paws, who had gone straight for Daria and rubbed against her ankles.

"This little lady is Bump," Daria said, smiling as the kitten nuzzled the palm of my hand. "Oh, and if you ever think another even remotely unpleasant thing about my cats again - I'll have Sandi or Zoey take your big toes off."

Judith blinked hard as Sandi's smile widened fractionally.

"I'm sorry," Judith said, as Julia picked Sissy up and set her on the counter, where the kitten quieted herself as she eagerly began drinking from a saucer that Julia had poured some of her glass of milk into. "Force of habit."

Daria shook her head, and took a small plastic bag from a thigh pocket of her Legion uniform – a barrier specimen pouch, used to transport bio-samples and evidence from the field, with two small sealed tubes inside. "Here's what you came for."

Judith caught the package Daria tossed her. "I don't suppose you want to tell me why getting samples from a bottle of water that I drank from is so important, do you?" Daria asked.

"Or that I drank from," Julia growled, her plate of ribs almost gone as she spoke through the paper towel she wiped her mouth with. "I'm not even from here. Why would you care about me?"

"We all have our secrets," Judith smiled, turning to Julia. "By the way - love your music. The _Bechdel Album_ is the best. I'd love to meet the guy who fucked your world up. Oh, that's right. I will."

Judith turned back to Daria. "Speaking of which – where's Danny and Evie?"

The room was silent. "That's right," she said, looking around at the confused faces – especially Daria, who suddenly realized that she couldn't read even Judith's surface thoughts any longer. "Didn't you hear me earlier when I said that _I know how to deal with telepaths?_ You only get from me what I want you to."

Quinn spoke up. "Who's 'Danny' and 'Evie'?"

For the first time since her arrival, Judith looked directly at Quinn, and the perky redhead felt as if she was being violated just by the way the woman's gaze touched her. "_You'll find out soon enough – 'Sis',"_ Judith said, her gaze swiveling back to Daria. "Can I go now – or do you need to show me more of your 'statement of force'?'

"That's not the main reason why we're here," Julia said, walking out of the kitchen (after placing Sissy and her saucer on the floor) and stopping as she stood just behind Daria.

Judith laughed. "So you're a 'messenger owl' instead of a 'songbird' here? Cool."

"Two messages," Daria spoke up. "The first one – well, I'm supposed to read this to you."

Daria took a slip of paper from a pocket and began to read. "_At the end of all that is, one snowflake can make a difference."_

The vulgar snort of derision that rolled from Judith was almost enough for Zoey to slice the woman's left ear off. "Ooh – getting cosmic advice from the back of the _Good Time_ restaurant again?" she snapped.

Despite whatever shielding she was using, the momentarily shock at having let something slip as Judith mentioned the restaurant caught the attention of both Daria and Amorette – neither of whom reacted in any way. "I'm not finished," Daria said. "_It also reads, 'At the end - remember that flight is not as important as freedom'."_

Judith simply yawned. "Now can I go?"

Julia spoke once again. "Before you do – look around the room. Take a good look."

The woman did so; she looked around and then, took another look, taking the time to notice everything – and everyone – in the room. "So?" she asked. "It's a room, and all of you. What am I looking for?"

Julia's expression was colder than anyone there had ever seen it before. "That's the message for you - from David Allen," she said, her voice able to cleave worlds. "He said, '_Look around you - __one more time__._ _What you're looking at... __that's__ why."_

The Legionnaires and the members of _The Alliance_ watched as Judith rose from her chair; her cloak reacted instantly, moving to let a part of itself roll over her head to cloak all but her lower face. "Pray we never meet again," Judith said, putting the package inside her cloak.

Even with Judith standing over her, Daria looked down her nose at the woman. "Get out of my house."

There was a flash of blue light, and Judith was gone. "_Well, that was pleasant!"_ Jane piped up, grabbing a slice of pizza. "_Nice of her to stop by, don't you think?"_

Amorette turned to face Jane, her eyes wide. "I can't believe that a sociopathic serial killer dropped in here – and you're cracking jokes, and quoting lines from _Animal House_!" she cried out, her voice sultry even with urgency and disbelief flowing through it. "That woman's serious about slaughtering your best friend!"

"_You're right,"_ Zoey said, reaching in for a slice.

"_She's right,"_ Maryann echoed, pushing past Amorette's legs to get to another pizza box and open it. "_We gotta do something."_

"_Absolutely,"_ Stacy spoke up, for the first time since she came in the room.

Jane swallowed her first bite and chimed right back in. "_You know what we gotta do?"_

The four young women spoke in unison. "_Toga party__."_

The leader of the _Phantom Eagles_ leaned back in near shock as the others began enjoying the pizza. "I don't believe this," she said, as Julia took an offered slice from the box Maryann held out to her, while Daria fed Bump pieces of sausage from her slice and Sissy, now crying out for attention at the top of her tiny voice, bounded from person to person begging for snacks. "This is totally not how we do things!"

"You should lighten up, Amorette," Julia said, smiling at her, "and grab some more pizza. These girls are worse than guys. Oh, yeah – when you get back, ask Sherrie if you can read her notes on the Legion. She makes some good points that you should remember, if you're going to work with them."

"Like what?" Amorette asked, as Sissy leaped over her feet to get to the dangled chunk of sausage Maryann held just over her furry head.

"How the Legionnaires not only don't 'operate inside or outside the box' – she doubts that they know that there IS 'a box'!" Julia replied. "Why don't you ask one of the Legionnaires for a tour, or a check ride on one of the planes?"

Amorette looked at Julia with disbelief. "Aren't you a Legionnaire?"

Julia's face lit up. "Hey, that's right – I am a Legionnaire! Would you like a ride on one of our planes, little girl?"

Daria ducked, and Bump meowed in protest, as Julia barely dodged the throw pillow Amorette tossed in her direction; as she lifted her head, Quinn leaned in close to her.

"Daria," Quinn said, "do we have to worry about you and that – _other_ you – anymore?"

"No," was the answer. "Something tells me that she's never coming back."

Quinn's face still held a questioning look. "What is it, Quinn?"

"Who are those people she was talking about, Daria?" she asked. "She acted like we should know who they are, or that we'll find out who they are – as if that's going to be a bad thing."

Daria looked down to see that Bump had cleaned almost all of the sausage and ground beef from her slice of pizza. "I'm talking to you, and our new chief overlord has taken her tribute for the day," she said, smiling as she stroked the kitten's round tummy. "We'll find out who they are when we're meant to, Quinn. Whether it's good or bad, we'll find out the future when it gets here. Don't worry about it until then."

"Hey, you little bandit! _Give that back!"_

Jane's outburst caught the Morgendorffer sister's attention; Sissy had stolen a large chunk of tuna off her slice of sushi pizza, and had easily dodged Jane's attempts to catch her as she ran underneath the table to enjoy her spoils. "_Morgendorffer!_ Your buck-wild daughter's stealing from me again!"

"You leave my little girl alone, or I'll let her pee in your sock drawer!" Daria shot back, trying hard not to laugh at the way Jane looked as she tried to get the kitten from beneath the table, blissfully uncaring about the way the others in the room looked at her.

"I've already caught her in my room – and my drawers – and they sneak into my bed late at night, when I'm trying to – _sleep!"_ Jane said, as the room exploded with laughter. "It's _not funny!_ A girl could have a heart attack if a squealing kitten just jumps onto your bed out of nowhere!"

Even Amorette couldn't stop a smile from appearing on her face as Bump climbed off Daria's lap – with no one attempting to stop her – and started to eat from the slice of sushi pizza Jane left on the tabletop as she tried in vain to capture Sissy.

**END**


	28. The Legion Encounters II

_The Legion Encounters - Part II___

_An Unexpected Stop___

A _Legion of Lawndale Heroes__ 'Mini' by Brother Grimace_

_(NOTE: This fic is part of the '__Judith Strikes__!' shared-world series.)_

_Praemonitus, praemunitus__ ('Forewarned is forearmed')  
-The DELPHI motto_

The young woman known as _Judith_ fell away from the door, the wicked-looking blade in her right hand falling free as she gagged upon the thick cloud of metallic-gray gas that enveloped her head.

Before she could react, the room was filled with light and sound.

She screamed as she felt bolts of electricity strike her from at least six different directions – and choked as even more of the gas filled her mouth and nostrils.

Judith lost control, her knees unlocking; only strong hands kept her from dropping to the floor as a hissing sound caused her cloak to be stripped from her-

Darkness.

"Hello, little girl. Why didn't you let us know that you'd be back in the neighborhood?"

Judith, lying on a floor, fought for her breath. "I'm certain that we could have scared up a pizza and some Ultra-Cola for you," the strangely echoing voice of a woman continued to speak, as Judith fought to regain her bearings. "After all, isn't that what all of you 'Darias' seem to love for snacking?"

"Don't… call me… that," the young woman coughed, trying to rise to her feet. "My name… is Judith…"

"We know," another echoing female voice rang out – this one more forceful and commanding; Judith was aware enough to hear the sounds of several people walking into the room. "_Did you really think we would forget you, Miss Morgendorffer?"_

Her eyes finally clearing, Judith found herself in a large room, one the size of a gymnasium and painted entirely white - except for two areas.

The first area (at the far end of the room) appeared to be a sleeping area painted in neutral colors, equipped with a king-sized bed, a pair of large, oversized chairs, a couch and a coffee table; the other (at the opposite end of the area) was a small mini-gym, painted at the sleeping area, and equipped with several exercise machines – treadmill, stationary bike and Bow-Flex among them.

"Who the hell are you?" Judith growled, turning to see her captors – several men and women, all dressed in business suits of purest white. "Where the hell am I? This isn't where I'm supposed to be!"

"It's just as I told you earlier, Director," one of the women – a tiny, shapely woman with a waist-long mane of straightened brown hair – to the tall, regal African-American woman who stood at the front of the group. "No recollection of an earlier incursion. Between this, the fact that we were able to separate her from the artifact and the color of her cloak-"

"This is an alternate-reality counterpart to the one we encountered before," the African-American woman said, looking Judith over. "Admiral – you have my thanks. Any resources or personnel that your operation may need in the immediate future will be provided at your request."

A stream of cursing flowed from Judith as she took in the sight of the snug white bodysuit that she wore in the reflection of the large monitor built into the wall in front of the couch – and she shrieked in shock, disbelief and barely controlled portions of rage and fear as she realized that her cloak – and _her locket_ - were gone.

"_Where the fuck's my locket?"_ she screamed, loud enough to be heard perfectly throughout the entire area. "It's _mine!_ Give it back to me! _Give it back!"_

As she charged, screaming, at her captors – Judith found herself slowing to a stop as she encountered a substance in the air around her that first felt like an aerosol spray, but quickly took on the consistency of the hardest rubber, holding her fast in mid-stride barely three feet from the group.

Snarling with frustration, Judith saw a short, fifty-something man in the dress-whites of a two-star U.S. Navy admiral moving through the group of white suits to stand beside the African-American woman. "Thank you, Director," Admiral Al Calavicci said. "I'm just glad that we happened to have exactly what you needed to locate and detain this–"

The Admiral nodded in Judith's direction. "Is she to be classified as an EOE, SPB, or as an HST?"

"She doesn't appear to have demonstrated any extant metahumans talents, aside from possessing control over her garment that appears to be on the level of a low-level psionic rapport that may also tap into an as-yet unrealized psychokinetic talent," the brown-haired woman spoke up. "However, with what we saw of the other Judith – as well as with the reports we've received – I'm given to believe that the garment actually possesses a low-level of self-awareness. It was most likely developed some form of residual psionic imprinting from the subject – especially considering that she has been able to have the garment operate on its own and commit homicide, along with other criminal and mundane activities."

Judith seethed as she grasped at her neck in vain for her missing locket, and realized that the people were pointedly ignoring her as they spoke. "You're saying that the damned cloak was – _is_ – a _Horcrux_, Doctor Richmond?" the Director asked, looking from Judith to the woman.

"We added a higher level of Salazarium to the containment mist when we hit her – with the constant exposure to chronal and inter-dimensional energies that she's undergone over the years, there's no telling what sort of chromosomal damage or mutagenic potentials exist in her," Lori Richmond replied. "Not taking any chances, after Baltimore."

Lori tapped away at her Blackberry. "We've got teams from _Fast Forward_ coming in tomorrow morning to begin full physical, psych and SPB workups on the subject," she continued. "Also, the _Uatu_ unit that collaborated with Dr. Beckett to realign the Accelerator will be reinforced in about four hours with a full crew from Missouri."

"Good," the Director spoke. "Tell Dr. Beckett and the _Uatu_ project head that I want a full briefing on possible future re-routing and containment of other hostile EOE's replicating this subject's plans – and on how fast that she can get the other _Holding Areas_ spun up to DELPHI standards."

"With the funding you've given us access to, Paula – the numbers don't matter," the Admiral said. "You send them our way – we'll bag 'em and tag 'em."

The Director nodded in the Admiral's direction. "Good to know, Al," she replied. "As of right now, _Project Quantum Leap_ is operating on DELPHI's _Crimson Access_ protocols. If you need _SHARD Rangers_ for additional security, you're free to request them, as well."

"Who the fuck are you looking at?" Judith screamed, beyond furious as Doctor Paula Trainor - the Director of DELPHI – tool a slow, casual walk around the now-immobile young woman, who seemed to hang in the air like an open-air work of performance art. "What – looking for a nice new bowl of clam chowder? I might swing that way, but not for an old, dried-up piece like you-"

Judith looked directly into Paula's eyes – and stopped talking at once.

"No, go ahead – get it all out of your system," Paula said, in a calm manner that froze Judith's blood. "Sooner than you realize, Miss Morgendorffer, we're going to have spirited, intelligent discussions, bereft of the cursing you seem to enjoy. After some time here, you'll remember, as most intelligent persons do, that we have better ways of expressing ourselves."

"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE!" Judith screamed. "LET ME GO!"

"You poor child," Paula said, a touch of actual pity in her voice. "Because of your actions in this reality and your knowing and willful transportation into this reality of an artifact capable of potentially unsanctioned metahuman augmentation, I am informing you that under the provisions of _Article Twenty-Five of the Bowman Metahuman and Extraterrestrial Affairs Act of 1982 – you have been declared a ward of the Federal Government of the United States of America."_

Judith's eyes narrowed as Paula continued. "Because of your new legal status, you have been remanded to the appropriate authorities who have been charged with physical custody - until such time as you are no longer considered a danger to yourself, or to the society in which it is hoped you will be able to re-enter one day."

"You can't do this to me!" Judith screamed, her rage – and the sudden blossom of absolute fear in her eyes – now approaching the event horizon upon which madness waited. "You can't-!"

"Until I saw the outfit you wore – I would have agreed with you," Paula told her. "The problem is – _your cloak is __blue__."_

The response Judith made came out like an explosion of fury. "_What the fuck does THAT have to do with anything?"_

"What that means, Miss Morgendorffer, is that when the confinement mist dissolves, you should consider getting some rest," Paula said. "Doctor Richmond will brief you on your daily activities and meal schedule, and I've authorized an extra ninety minutes of open-air privileges per day for you as you settle in. I've been told that there's an excellent and varied selection of meals available, and they also have a wide selection of video materials for you to view."

"Hello, Miss Morgendorffer," Lori said, coming up to Judith as Paula turned away. "I'm Doctor Richmond. I'm a Special Activities Assistant to the Director, and I'll be your point of contact with Director Trainor. I'll also be the lead evaluator on your team as you undergo your orientation and familiarization phases here at this facility. I want you to understand that even though it may not seem like it now – we want to help you."

"_Fuck you!" _Judith screeched, now unable to even move her head; her eyes were locked on the receding sight of Paula, the Admiral, and the others walking away from her towards the exit, with Lori's voice becoming a droning constant in her ears as she felt a numbing, calming sensation begin to move across every single inch of her body, like warm, stroking fingers… "Fuck you! Fuck you…!"

The anger she felt no longer expressible in an outward manner, Judith could not – she refused to even try – to focus on Lori's voice as the doors to the Holding Area closed behind.

Trapped like a fly in amber by the containment mist, Judith tried one more time to move or even generate the will to scream one more time.

The calming agent in the formula of the mist had done its job all too well. The anger was gone, leaving a chasm deep and unseen within Judith.

Her cloak – gone. The locket – gone.

_What did she mean?_ Judith thought. '_My cloak is __blue__?' What does that mean?_

Trapped, here, by those DELPHI fools – why didn't it work? It worked flawlessly everywhere else, in every reality – why didn't it work here? How did I come out here – How did they take my cloak from me?

Where is my cloak? Wherever you are, please, please, don't be afraid – I'll find you, I promise. I promise I'll find you.  
_  
Trapped here – it's not fair. I had a destiny. I'm supposed to have a destiny! How can they do this to me? It's not supposed to be this way!_

Shame, frustration and a sweeping wave of quiet desperation all evaporated into that chasm within Judith, leaving only a flickering flame of despair visible in her eyes.

Lori, watching, stopped speaking as the light began to leave Judith's eyes – and the first tears appeared at the corners, falling away only to lose momentum and pool in different patches on the lower half of the young woman's face.

"I'll come back in an hour," she said – kindly enough so that she probably did feel the sympathy in her voice. "You know, someday – this will be better for you."

She started away, the soft, lost sounds of Judith's weeping following her out of the area.

**END**


	29. The Legion Encounters III

_The Legion Encounters – Part III___

_Equal Payment___

A _Legion of Lawndale Heroes__ 'Mini, by Brother Grimace_

(NOTE: This fic - part of the '_Judith Strikes__!' shared-world series - takes place during the events chronicled in the episode __The Lab Brat__.)_

_"I want what you want," she said. "I know what's in your heart."  
"No one knows that."  
"What's in your heart is in your ledger. I could read it there-I know where it is-but I don't need to."  
He started and looked at her with a wild guilt.  
"It used to be under that loose stone there," she said, pointing to the hearth, "but you moved it. Now it's behind the insulation in the attic."  
"How do you know that? How do you know?"  
"I know because he told me. He . . . you could say that he wrote me a letter. And what's more important, he told me about you, Harold. How the cowboy took your woman and then kept you off the Free Zone Committee. He wants us to be together, Harold. And he's generous. From now until when we leave here, it's recess for you and me."  
She touched him and smiled.  
"From now until then it's playtime. Do you understand?"  
"I-"  
"No," she answered, "you don't. Not yet. But you will, Harold. You will."_

- Nadine Cross and Harold Emery Lauder, from Stephen King's _The Stand_

"Oh, my God… that was _amazing_."

Charles Ruttheimer III had no idea that he'd get his dream that night – and it would be better than it could ever be…

*****

Charles was about to head over to Brittany Taylor's house to work on their project for Science class – of course, he had something better in mind than that.

No. Not _that._ Brittany was quite the fair and fetching flower of feminine perfection, but she, sadly enough, lacked even the most basic capacity for worthwhile conversation… and while Charles knew that he had a few problems beyond the usual hormone-related ones (_and what normal young man doesn't have those?_ he reminded himself on occasion), he wasn't about to do anything untoward to gain personal knowledge in the carnal arts.

Charles headed for the door – and received one of the greatest shocks of the life as he opened it, and saw one of his wildest, darkest, most unspoken fantasies, come to life right before his eyes.

_Oh, my God-_

"Hey," the auburn-haired young woman said, pushing him back into the hallway as she stepped inside. "Got plans for tonight?"

"Well," he managed to sputter out, entranced by and yet trying his hardest to not notice the outfit that Daria Morgendorffer wore – matte-black catsuit so tight that it seemed painted on (and without any undergarments, he instantly noticed), and then, he noticed one of the coolest things he'd ever seen in his life.

Somehow, Daria had fixed up the red cloak that she also wore so that it was moving of its own accord – _as though it were actually alive._

_How the heck did she know that I've always been into stage magic?_ Charles thought, barely capable of keeping his eyes from lingering – or stopping outright – as they went from looking the cloak over to looking into her eyes. _Oh, yes, my delectable Miss Morgendorffer. Without a moment of doubt, you had me at 'Hey'._

Charles was about to let a second word come sputtering out of his mouth, when Daria put her left index finger over his lips. "Charles – I only want you to do two things," she said, her voice far more alluring than he could have ever thought possible. "First – and nod 'yes' or 'no' – is there anyone here with you?"

Still star-struck – and fighting a valiant fight to keep from growing visibly aroused by the feel of Daria's actual touch _(start going over something in your brain or you'll pop a cosmic chubbie right here and blow a load that'll throw her into the next block, dummy! Types of Federation starships in __Star Trek__ – __Constitution__-class… __Miranda__-class… __Excelsior__-class… __Constellation__-class… __Galaxy__-class… __Nebula__-class… __Intrepid__-class… __Defiant__-class…__Akira__-class… __Sovereign__-class…)_, Charles was barely able to nod 'yes'.

"Good," Daria purred into his ear as she leaned close, pressing her body firm against his own, allowing him to feel how soft her body was against his. "Good."

Only a divine effort could have stopped biology from asserting itself as Charles felt his body respond to the female form against his body, or the way she moved in a subtle manner that he simply couldn't ignore-

Charles imagined himself almost fainting as his entire body burst into the brightest shade of red he had ever seen – at the exact moment that his erection leapt painfully to life, straining uncontrollably against the fastenings of his trousers.

"Oh, does little Charles want to come out to play?" Daria asked, playfully, teasingly – the same manner that her hand slowly stroked along the visibly throbbing outline at the front of Charles trousers. "I think he does. I really think he does."

"Da-"

Silken fingers placed upon his lips once more cut off whatever Charles had planned to say. "The other thing I want from you?" the young woman said, removing her fingers. "For the next hour – _don't say anything that could be considered conversation."_

Charles nodded, dumbstruck – and nearly passed out as the young woman pushed her lips to his, her tongue aggressively flickering about in his mouth as she all but forced a kiss upon him… light-headed as Daria pulled away, Charles gulped frantically for air – and made a sound somewhere between a wheeze and a strangled cry of surprise, mixed with pain, as the young woman all but pulled his trousers down (taking his underwear with them), making a sudden, animal gulping sound as Charles felt-

"Rrrowr… _rrrowrl…_ rrr – _rrr…_ rrr… _oh, __sweet mother of God on high__…"_

The last rational thought Charles could manage for the next hour (speech was a virtual impossibility, aside from grunts and keening with excitement) was to remember what his father had once said about women… '_Rule sixty-eight, boy! 'The perfect woman has to be able to deliver a blow job that damn near __kills__! She has to be able to tie a Windsor knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, and she should be able to suck the blue from a clear mid-morning Montana sky in the middle of July! If you __EVER__ find yourself such a woman – __marry her__.'_

Far more tired than he could ever remember being – and unable to wipe the smile from his face – Charles sighed as Daria lay her head upon her bare chest.

Several moments from now, the young man would reflect on how the words about to come out of his mouth were manifestly the exact wrong words – and the exact wrong person to quote – in his immediate circumstances.

"Well," he said, marveling on how the world hadn't immediately changed over into a far better place immediately – though it certainly did feel that way! – after losing his virginity _(why did they say it like that? 'Losing your virginity' – they make it sound like a __bad__ thing, which it __most certainly is not__, friends!)_. "I rather enjoyed that…"

"No complaints on this end, either," the young woman said, smiling up at him. "Or at any other end, for that matter. Not bad, for a rookie."

"Thank you," he said, smiling at Daria.

The young woman cocked an eyebrow at him. "For giving you something that you can brag about to all of the other guys?"

Charles shook his head. "I'm not telling anyone about anything," he said, looking her in the eye. "What you do to show off is one thing, but what you do in private is another – and any man who feels that he has to 'kiss and tell' is far less of a man than he realizes."

'Daria' smiled at him. "You really do mean that, don't you?"

"Of course," he said. "I can be a lout – a cad of epic proportions in my ostentatious and very public performances of attempting to gain the favors of the lovely ladies about town. For those soiled flowers such as Brittany Taylor, who could never believe that I could be about more than the animal act because of their own limitations in the area of romance – I perform the part of the buffoon they expect, so nothing more is expected of me here – but for someone such as you…"

Lifting away from him slightly, Daria's smile widened, becoming the brilliant beacon that Charles knew that it could be...

A flash of red shot across his field of vision, and Charles blinked hard, punch-drunk as something blindsided him from the other side of the bed, striking him hard enough to make his vision fade out momentarily-

"_WHOA!"_

Charles found himself naked and bound tight to the top of his bed by four straps of cloth that resembled the cloth of Daria's cloak!

Struggling to get free as Daria – now standing off to the side as she slid her catsuit back on (an incredible sight that he couldn't have torn his eyes away from in damn near any other circumstances) – watched him squirm, Charles lifted his head. "What the hell's going on?"

"Well, not that we've had fun – I have to get back to business," Daria told him as she took off a simple, yet strange-looking ring that he only now noticed on her right ring finger. "This is just a simple toy I picked up in a hotel, down in New Orleans. It creates a personal illusion called a 'glamour', that can last up to eight hours – but you can only use it once."

Daria took off the ring, and Charles' eyes widened as he saw 'Daria' immediately grow several years older – now, she really was a woman, in her early twenties, he guessed – and she had, imbedded in her neck, what looked like a locket of some sort.

"Daria… what happened to you?"

Faster than he could have ever imagined – _damn, she moves like a vampire, or a super-speedster out of the comics!_ Charles thought – he found Daria on top of him, straddling him in a manner that gave him no pleasure whatsoever. "First things first," she hissed, locking her gaze with his. "The name is Morgendorffer – Daria _Judith_ Morgendorffer. Call me – '_Judith__'."_

Charles nodded quickly. "O-okay."

Judith smirked at him. "Good boy! Now, here's the part where I have to be a bitch. I wanted to have some fun with you because, well, it is your last day on this Earth as you know it, so I guess I thought, 'hey, why not let the kid go out with a bang?"

Suddenly remembering watching the film _Species_ while laying on this bed – and flashing back to Alfred Molina's gruesome fate after sex, not to mention that he himself had uttered Mr. Molina's exact words, Charles looked at Judith, his voice surprising them both with his lace of fear. "What is this – a ritual thing?" he asked. "You're going to kill me and take body parts after you've slept with me, or something? Your friends are going to come and you'll kidnap me, and leave a thumb or an ear to show that you really do have me?"

Judith chuckled as she held up what looked like a plastic disk, roughly larger than a 'silver dollar' pancake. "No woman is ever going to be as honest with you as I am. I'm not interested in your money, or your body."

She tapped on the back of the disk - and a dozen metallic tentacles, each well over a foot long and glowing with a soft inner light, shot out from the disk and hung free, making it look as if Judith was holding a mechanical jellyfish in her hand! "No, Charles," she said, reaching forward. "_I'm only interested in your __mind__."_

As Judith finished dressing Charles in his pajamas, she smiled as she saw the look of total pleasure etched upon the boy's face. _I can be nice – sometimes,_ she thought, putting the cover over him.

_Perhaps he'll recover,_ she thought, thinking of the 'Masquerade' – the device she had used, now nestled inside her cloak and how, while duplicating an actual human mind for later use or even implantation in another body – could provide ultimate agony or pleasure during the process. _Some do, some don't. It's a shame, though. Kid's got a nice piece of equipment. With some experience, he could really make some smart ladies scream as if the Second Coming were on hand – no pun intended. _

Judith sighed. _Got a few more calls to make,_ she thought. _I need some athletic talent, and musical as well… fighting skills, and brains would be nice… who to call upon, who to all upon…_

_Yes. Oh, __Thomas__? Momma's coming to call – and you know how she likes her high-quality meat._

Touching the locket, Judith disappeared in a flash of blue light.

**END**


	30. The Legion Encounters IV

___Not So Different___

A _Legion of Lawndale Heroes__ 'Mini', featuring The Alliance_

Written by Brother Grimace

_(NOTE: This fic is part of the '__Judith Strikes__!' shared-world continuity. It takes place at about the same time as LLH 13:9.)_

_Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart.  
-Anne Frank_

"You're not supposed to hit girls." David Allen Farrington said, the tone in his voice kind but firm.

That wasn't enough for the eleven-year-old that sat next to him. "Why not, if they hit you first?"

David Allen sighed, and took a moment to look around the area from his spot on the stage of the Kuznov Auditorium – because of circumstances (namely, having lost a bet), the place where he and a fellow Cadet First Class were having their weekly 'campfire'.

"You're not supposed to hit girls – and you're not supposed to make fun of them, either. It's the way things are."

The boy persisted. "Why?"

An exasperated sigh escaped from David Allen. "Because."

The kid just wouldn't quit. "Why?"

David Allen looked at the kid – _God, was I ever that small, or this annoying?_ – as he held his hand to his forehead. "Okay, there are a few reasons why you shouldn't," he spoke up. "First – because it's not right. Second - because hitting someone is a LOT of demerits. It means that you get serious punishment detail, too, and let's see – what else?"

Looking around the circle of nine eleven-year-old boys - each wearing the uniform of USAES _First Academy_ cadets (white uniform shirts and jet black slacks with baby-blue striping on the outside of the legs) as they sat on the stage, David Allen trundled on. "Well, you like getting that four-hour block of free time on Sunday, after chapel services, right? Extra ice cream and cupcakes, a GOOD movie on that 400-inch screen TV, and you get to wear civvies… One little girl starts crying because you put your paw on her, and that all goes away for a few weeks."

The young cadet looked as if he were about to cry. "You'd do that because some girl hits me and I hit her back? You're mean!"

The other young cadets all grumbled their agreement, and David Allen felt the touch of a telepathic signal brush against his conscious mind. **+Damn, Farrington – they're still little kids – more that than cadets at the moment,+** the voice spoke clearly into his mind. **+They're not programmed yet for constant rules the way you were when you came in. Tell them about the good things that come from being nice to little girls when you're a kid yourself.+**

**[Some of us weren't always trying to get some girl off alone – 'Chaser',]** David Allen mentally returned. **[Some of us were concerned about more important things – like learning how to stay in control.]**

On the other side of the circle, Jackson Chaisson - a slender, fit young man with close-cropped black hair who wore the jet-black uniform of the _Phantom Eagles_ - looked across to his opposite, who wore a dark scarlet uniform shirt. "Um, Davy – tell them the good things that happen when you don't make fun of girls, or hit them back when they hit you?"

**+Yeah – and how's that 'stay in control' thing working?+** Jackson thought-cast to his fellow Cadet First Class over his verbal speech. **+That's why you bounced me around the simulators like a beach ball after I asked Julia to come with me to the Kentucky Derby, back when we were all Fourth Class – and gave that poor girl the silent treatment for the rest of the year. It's not as if you can't officially ask her out yourself – and now that she's with the Legion, you can probably score a nice place to sit at the Preakness next May for the both of you… unless you'd rather it be Chandni, or Susannah…+**

**[Telepaths,]** David Allen flashed back to Jackson. **[Nothing but drama – and FYI – I already planned to talk with Julia when I run up to D.C. next week to see my mother. Why am I telling you this?]**

**+Well, if you'd had the common sense to date another telepath, this wouldn't be a problem – and it's not as if you don't have… plenty of choices,+** Jackson flashed back, his psi-speech far faster than David Allen's – _not that it matters,_ he mused, careful to shield his thought from the other cadet. _Bastard's like the psychic version of a hovertank. Slower psi-speech than almost everyone else here, but far, far better armor, lots of secondary weapons - and then, __he starts shooting with that big gun__…_ **+ Our resident hillbilly-girl Destiny wouldn't turn you away if you looked in her direction – neither would Jordan, Fiona, Chi Ling or even Christine, if you played it right – and if you're feeling a bit like Captain Jack, you know that Mike Bethke likes to go watch when you're doing the acrobatics thing… But no pressure.+**

Jackson laughed at the expression on David Allen's face – and his laughter died in mid-guffaw as a flicker of regret crossed the Black cadet's face. **[Chi Ling . .. yeah, like I need to have Yanni-boy pissed at me for yet ****another**** thing I've supposedly taken that he deserves by right of birth. Why do you think I never tried out for the **_**Eagles**_**? Can you imagine how people would treat me if I were in one of those uniforms? No, thank you.]**

"I think you can tell the kids the answer to that," David Allen replied. "Tell them about how you treat girls… or, you could tell them about last year's Spring Break trip to South Padre Island."

Jackson turned to David Allen with a look cats usually reserve for birds and rodents. "Why don't we tell them about your week out at Sequoia National Park - just after Halloween, when we were Second Years?" he chuckled. "Better yet – why don't we tell a certain number of young women around here, including _a tall redhead, and the hot number who runs the crew I'm with?"_

The Black cadet's eyes went wide as Derek smiled and continued on. "So, what's this about a necklace of real pearls you've been collecting, and putting together piece-by-piece since the beginning of First Year-"

"Oh, _we're __getting real__, huh?"_ David Allen huffed, all the while thinking _This is what happens when you spend ten years with fifty-three other telepaths - not to mention all of the others in the Academy – the other cadets, and the ones on the Academy staff. You have to work to keep a secret – and even then…_

He sat up straight. "_Ostrich Day_ - last year. A hot tub - _filled with __sparkling mead__."_

Jackson drew himself up straight. "The day after we graduated from the _First Academy_. The Academy woods – in that grove of walnut trees. Paying off the bet you lost – remember?"

The younger cadets watched, smirking at the impromptu show (of course, even little kids gossip, so they knew things already) as the Deputy Cadet Commander-of-Corps cracked his knuckles.

"Nothing happened - much - and you know it," David Allen shot back. "The day you left for your internship year – _in the Commandant's office – in the Commandant's own __chair__."_

Jackson wasn't about to quit. "Last year. _Maine__._ _Beachfront property. The afternoon of that big storm."_

David Allen pointed an accusing finger. "That doesn't count. I didn't have a choice. You know the rules don't allow us to use our powers when it isn't life-of-death."

The _Phantom Eagle_ scoffed. "Yeah, well, someone who wants to be a doctor shouldn't have needed that long to perform mouth-to-mouth."

David Allen laughed in his face. "This from the future Secret Service agent who took two hours to learn the proper way to put handcuffs on a subject? Strange, until you find out the instructor who helped you after hours got second runner-up in the _Miss America_ pageant?"

"That's always been your problem - _Pins,_" a familiar voice rang out, and the group turned as one to see the young woman in red cloak and catsuit as she walked down the main aisle, her gait casual. "You're always so – judgmental. It's why you have problems around people – why they're always on pins and needles around you. Isn't that why all your little rich friends always called you 'Pins'?"

All of the young Cadets Sixth Year backed up slightly as David Allen turned to the front of the stage, his eyes growing cold. "_Don't call me __that__."_

Jackson smiled as he watched the young woman's smooth gait as she came closer to the stage. "Hey, isn't she that Daria Morgendorffer chick who did the poster last year-"

"_**DON'T CALL ME**__ '__DARIA__!"_

Jackson's comment was cut off in mid-sentence as the woman punctuated her scream of rage with a white-hot energy bolt from the energy weapon that she drew in a blink of an eye from nowhere – a bolt that lifted the cadet off his stool and threw him a good ten feet backstage!

The young woman reached the stage. "_My name is __Judith__,"_ she said, the evil-looking weapon rock-steady in her grasp as she pointed it at David Allen. "I need to have a word with _you_."

Seven bolts of energy, each one exactly identical to the one Judith's weapon fired, speared out from backstage, poised to punch directly into her left eye – but the line of energy bolts actually stopped an inch from her face, suspended in an aura of blue light. "Nice shooting," she snarked, tilting her head slightly to see Jackson emerge from backstage, his uniform undamaged, with both eyes and all ten fingernails glowing with the same energy that Judith's weapon fired. "Good accuracy. _Now you __die__."_

A cocoon of energy began to swirl around Jackson as the glow in his eyes grew bright enough to light up the stage. "Ladies first," he growled.

"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" David Allen barked off, his mental shield now active, the younger cadets safe inside as he stepped into the line of fire. "Cadet London – escort the Sixth Years back to Centurion Hall, and apprise the Commandant's Office of the situation here."

"David Allen-" Jackson blurt out.

"Cadet Captain London, you have your orders!" David Allen spoke sharply. "I have the situation under control."

Jackson gave him a glare of sharpened steel as the glow faded. "Yes, sir. Cadre – fall in."

"Oh, brave boy," Judith purred, as an opening appeared in the back of the force field; Jackson herded the wide-eyed tweens off stage quickly as David Allen never took his eyes from her. "Can you make all those cadets sit up, roll over and fetch your bone?"

"If you were anyone else, I'd turn you into steam and ant food," the Black cadet replied. "But I know that I can't touch you – that _nobody_ can touch you with a hand towards stopping you – and that you have to escape with your prize. My mother told me all about _you_."

Judith raised the hood of her cloak, and David Allen looked into the eyes of an exact duplicate of Daria Morgendorffer. "Good," she said. "Then you know what I can do to this place – and to you – if you don't give me what I came for. Now."

David Allen looked at Judith as if she were fresh guano on his polished shoes. "The Daria Morgendorffer of **this** reality is a world-class metahuman. She's one of the five strongest primary telepaths on the planet right now, and she fought me to a standstill in full-on mental combat. If she were more experienced or I wasn't sneaky, she'd have probably cleaned my clock."

He took several steps towards the front of the stage and stood over Judith. "You… are a malignant little girl with enough issues to start your own reading room, a problem with your own reflection, and a rep as the Multiverse's newest doorknob. Even with what you did on _The Habitat_ – or more to the point, because of it - _the __High Council of the Arete__ sends you this message: '__We are not impressed__'."_

Her eyes suddenly filled with icy rage, Judith drew a volleyball-sized metal sphere from within her cloak. "This is a _Blinovitch reversal sphere_ – set with a fifteen-mile effect radius. You know what that'll do, smart-ass?"

David Allen nodded. "Yes, I know. Jeffrey's got all of the _New Universe_ comic books in his collection. I know the story of _The Pitt_."

Judith's voice was a defiant snarl. "Impressed now, fancy boy with two first names?"

The cadet shook his head. "By someone who can kill a million people without trying, or trying to make fun off my name? Lady, I could do the former when I was _five_ - that's the reason I was placed here in the first place - and I've been verbally abused by people doing the latter who drew a _salary_ for doing it."

Biting back both the urge to curse and to castrate the young man in front of her with her toenails, Judith let her eyes fall upon the digital watch-like device that David Allen wore on his left wrist. "Your _Mark 31_, please. Before you make me angry."

"No." David Allen told her, as he pulled a small jewelry box from a pocket in his slacks. "_This_ is what you came for, and what you have to leave with. The _only_ thing you have to leave with."

Judith caught the box in her left hand; as she opened the box to see what was inside, David Allen saw the cloak shift slightly, revealing the slightly-grotesque sight of a locket embedded in the skin below her neck, just above the distracting sight of her cleavage.

"So, this is why your Earth didn't get scorched by _Van Mannen's Star_," she said. "Nice."

"_Adriaan's Eye,"_ David Allen told the woman, as she looked at the translucent globe the size of a 'shooter' marble. "All the power of a supernova detonation, and its potential effects upon a solar system… rolled up in a tiny sphere."

The young woman's head shot up in actual surprise. "_The entire solar system_? You mean - your people didn't just save the Earth?"

Judith blinked again – and then, looked up, a crafty look on her face. "So, soldier boy… just how many _Eyes_ are there?"

The cadet remained silent. "Fine," she snapped. "I'll find out for myself, thank you very much. That fancy regulator. Get it off your wrist. Now."

"No." David Allen stepped off the stage, and landed in front of Judith. "If you want something from me, though – I'll give you something that you want."

He looked down, and Judith felt actual surprise that she was offended by the way he stared at her chest – until she realized that he was looking at the locket embedded in her flesh. "The only thing that you want."

"I've read up on you, Farrington," she said. "The 'meaningful stare' - that's your twin's thing, isn't it?"

"If Colin were here – well, that's another story," David Allen sighed. "Oh, and I wouldn't visit him at the _HIVE_. They're not as friendly there as we are. As I was saying – I can give you the one thing you want."

He held out his left hand. "Take my hand."

Judith looked down at the extended hand. "Are you insane? Are you really that fucking past all common sense?"

The cadet smiled – a response that would have shocked most of the individuals who knew him, or scared them. "Are you afraid of me? Are you really so afraid of what I can do to you?"

The young woman looked at him with total contempt, and turned away. "Be thankful that I don't kill you where you stand. I know how to deal with telepaths."

"You see, that's one big misunderstanding that everyone has about me," David Allen said, straightening his tie. "One thing that 'mundanes' don't really get is that not all of us are alike – they think that all people with psi-powers are alike."

"You all die just the same," Judith huffed, thinking 'Why don't I just kill this bastard and just go?'

"Because a part of you really is curious," he said, holding out his hand. I'm not a primary telepath like Daria, or the other Class Fives here – _I'm a primary __empath__._ Let me show you a different way."

He extended his hand further. "Trust me."

For some strange reason, Judith reached out and grasped the extended hand-

David Allen found his astral self beside Judith's translucent form, as they both viewed a moment out of Judith's life:

"_So what – you gonna make a scene about us being in here?" Judith said, giving the manager a cool stare as several Lawndale High students fled from the __Good Time__ Chinese restaurant, most not even bothering to leave in their cars._

"No," the manager said, bringing them a basket filled with crab rangoon, won ton, and miniature spring rolls. "What you do and who you do it with is your own business. This is on the house – for your trouble."

"What's this supposed to be – a cheap bribe, to keep the gays from starting up trouble?" Jane growled. "Okay – more trouble?"

The manager – an overweight Black man in his fifties with a perpetually sad look in his eyes, held up _his left hand. "What do you see on this hand, ladies?"_

Judith and Jane shrugged and said as one, "Nothing."

The manager nodded. "That's right. Nothing. No wedding ring. That means I'm not married, and I don't have kids. That means I don't have anyone – and if you think I'm going to say anything about anyone finding someone who can be happy with, no matter who they are, so they don't have to feel the way I do every single day-"

He reached down to sweep the used napkins and packets of sauces off the table into the small trash can that he held in his other hand. "In my house, what you do and who you do it with is your own business. That's all I'm saying. You want to be bitchy to other people – you need to find another reason here, besides who you're with."

The universe shifted about them both is a psychotic moment of shifting images; and they were looking down at a crying African-American child in a crib, as four persons moved close.

_One of the four, a slinky, distractingly beautiful brunette in her early twenties, spoke in a voice that screamed 'country girl' as her irises began to glow bluish white. __**[Don't worry, little David,]**__ she thought-cast to the child, barely a week old. __**[We're not going to hurt you. Just go to sleep, and dream of warm blankets, dream of your belly being full, and your mommy holding you. Just go to sleep, little David…]**___

The four telepaths mindlinked, and as one, they sent a whisper-thin mental probe into the infant's brain, moving slowly yet gently as they moved to close of the portions of his mind that allowed him access to his active psi-abilities-

One of the four telepaths – Judith could feel her mind, her powers, everything about her pouring away from the now-dying woman, letting go with one unholy death-scream as she exploded into a blue-white human bonfire as the child's eyes suddenly flared to life in bluish light…

Sujata Varma. She was twenty-six years old, and was the second youngest daughter of the Deputy Security Director for Asia. She asked to be part of the binding ceremony because she was very good with children, and had helped in the binding ceremonies of over two thousand children in the years since her powers had been unbound at age seventeen. She was a nanny by profession, and more than anything else, wanted her own family. Her primary power was telepathy, but at an unusually low communication speed…

One of the men died next, exploding into several body fragments that caught fire…

Robert Berg. He was twenty-one years old, a graduating senior and fourth-generation student at Princeton University – and would never know that his fiancé, who he had planned to marry a year from his graduation date, was carrying his daughter. A primary empath – and the first psionic healer that the Elite had seen in a generation, not to mention the most powerful one they had seen in over two centuries - Robert was the first member of the family in four generations to be allowed access to his powers. This was his first inclusion in a Binding Ceremony.

_The other woman simply dropped to the floor as if she were a marionette with its strings all suddenly severed; she lay there, twitching, her mind gone, and her body simply running on automatic pilot…_

Carey Phillips-Bethke. Twenty years old, and the newlywed bride of Magnus Bethke, the Executive Director for North America. The most powerful empath the Elite had seen in a thousand years, with such power and control over her abilities that she could manipulate and control the populations of cities, if need be. She had given birth to her son Mike only two months earlier, on her family's farm in Kentucky, and was looking forward to a lifetime of her children (she wanted a houseful of kids, to make up for being an only child) on the huge ranch she had talked her husband into buying and living on, despite his love of the metropolitan lifestyle.

The child turned his attention to the last of his 'attackers'…

Gunther Schultz. Forty years old, he was the head of personal security for the Executive Director of Eastern Europe. A master of psionic combat, he was also a primary telepath with a noted skill in shielding; his skill and power allowed his shields to protect him from even physical and mystic attacks…

He screamed as he was engulfed in fire from all angles, from the physical and astral plane, unceasing, unholy flame that seemed alive, blowing down his shields as it drained his powers and tried to consume his life-force…

"Stop."

The flame-effect that surrounded the child's crib ceased immediately as Günter dropped to one knee, fighting back blinding pain as he looked at his left arm, now blackened and charred; fighting to stay conscious, he watched as Cassandra Farrington, wearing the uniform of a U.S. Navy commander, had rushed into the room (followed by a swarm of others) and had gone to her child's crib…

I hope they kill that little monster, Günter thought, before the pain mercifully took him into darkness…

Judith cringed as the blurring of images took them flashing into her mind once more…

"_You didn't have to introduce all of them to 'Clownie', Jane," Judith said, looking slightly sick and yet still impressed at he way Jane had come into the LHS football team's locker room to rescue her and make short work of the three player before they could gang-rape Judith 'in order to make her straight again'. "My God – they've all gone catatonic…"_

"Who knows, Daria?" Jane said, smiling as she stomped on the still-twitching hand of a player – almost as an afterthought. "Maybe they'll live to spend the rest of their lives shitting in bedpans and eating through tubes. It's actually more than they deserve."

"Just – just leave them alone," Judith said, rolling up her black t-shirt (torn from her by one of the players) and putting it in her jacket pocket before zipping the jacket up. "Hold on a moment," Jane said, lowering the zipper down enough so that Judith's cleavage could be seen. "Hmm… I like that look. We'll have to remember that for another time."

_"When some freaks haven't been listening to that hardass O'Neill about 'traditional family values' in the books he wants people to read." Judith snarled. "That dumb bastard is the only person too stupid to get that he should back off – no, he thinks that if he force-feeds us 'the right books' – he can 'change us to what women are supposed to be'. I'm really starting to dislike him."_

"I can't believe he called me a 'clam-diving circus freak' in his 'Self-Esteem' class," Jane echoed. "Someone should teach him that he's not the baddest dude in the whole damn town…"

The look that appeared on Judith's face effectively killed off the smile that had begun to creep across Jane's face. "We have got to find you another hobby, Jane."

The flashing of images continued, despite David Allen's trying to pull out, and he looked over to see Judith smile wickedly at him…

"_David Allen – you know that I know you're in here, so you might as well come out," the voice of a little girl said, and she opened the door to the closet. "Why are you hiding in here?"_

Julia Carlyle, all of ten years old, leaned against the doorframe as David Allen, dressed in a very nice charcoal-gray suit, wiped his tears away. "What's wrong? People are wondering where you went – its kind of obvious when your family has a birthday party for you and your brother, and one of you isn't there!"

"Let Colin have it," David Allen said, his face now impassive." I didn't want to come back home for this anyway – my mom made me-"

"But she invited all of us in 2996, and we get to spend the weekend here at your grandmother's mansion," the young girl said, playing with a lock of her long, scarlet hair. "There's so much to do here – granted, it's not like Mom's house out in Colorado, or Nana Miranda's place in the Hamptons, but-"

"Let's sneak off and go hang out there," the boy blurted out suddenly. "Either one. They won't miss me –I only come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, anyway – and I'm never coming back here after today. I hate it when he comes around. I hate him so much…"

"That Tom Sloane?" Julia's face turned into a grimace. "Little Mister Perfect? He's a goat turd – he thinks that he's so cute and he's so special – like your family _and__ mine can't __both__ buy his family and give them away!"_

David Allen looked up. "Don't you mean 'buy them and sell them'?"

Julia flipped her hair back. "No. Mommy Paige was always into tax stuff before she became a judge. She always says that you can get tax deductions for giving some stuff away!"

"What's a 'tax deduction?" David Allen asked.

"I dunno – some money they give you so you can buy school stuff or stuff for a farm. That's what Sherrie says that her family does when they get one," Julia answered.  
_  
The boy looked down at his highly shined shoes, and a tiny point of pride sliced through him that he was able to get his own shoes so perfectly shined. "Are you paying attention to me, Cadet Farrington – or are you still smirking that you got honors for best uniform presentation for seven weeks in a row?"_

"No – he was making fun of me for the way I dressed." came the answer.

"He wishes he could dress that nicely," Julia waved the comment away. "When was the last time some tailor came to his house from Italy to measure him and fix his clothes right at his house? Don't even pay any attention to him, David Allen – he's a jerk face, and he always will be."

"That's one of the things he always reminds everybody of, every time he sees me or whenever they start talking about me," David Allen said. "He said that the reason why my mother always calls me by my first and middle name is because I killed those people when I was little, and they always call mass murderers by their first and middle names."

He looked done before continuing. "In a way, he's right," David Allen told Julia. "Mom said that I need to be formal with people, and they need to be formal with me. She said that I'm the 'Dolphin', or something like that, and when I grow up, it's going to be very important."

"You being a dolphin?" Julia's eyes grew wide." I didn't know that you could become a dolphin? That would be cool! You could swim underwater with Zoey, and the other guys with water powers!"

"I can do that already, if I use my shield - but if I could shape-shift, that would be another thing that Yaniv would be mad about," David Allen said. "Thank God he isn't here, too. Him and Tom would be-"

Julia cut him off as she stepped into the closet, and moved David Allen over so that she could sit beside him on the steamer trunk he was sitting on. "Oh, screw Yanni-boy! He's a dick! He's a teeny little dick! Both him and Tommy Sloane are teeny-tiny, eeenie-meanie, beanie-weenie little dicks!"

David Allen almost laughed; Julia smiled as a smile instead managed to work its way upon her fellow cadet - and friend's – face. "Stop saying stuff like that, Julia" he told the redhead. "That's why you already have so many demerits."

"No, that's how come I _had__ so many demerits," she replied. "I __always__ ask if I can march them off like the older students, and they let me. This way, I get to be in better shape than everybody, I get a rep as a 'bad girl' – which means that people are gonna stay out of my face – the teachers also know that I'm ready to take my punishment without whining - and do you know all of the gossip I get to hear when I'm on punishment march? The stuff that goes on 'across the alley' in the Elite Academy will blow your mind… and if you want, I heard things about your mentor with the 'Lord of the Rings' first name…"_

David Allen's mind flashed to Eowyn LaSalle – a Cadet Second Class, she was the current ranking psi-active cadet (or 'Esper Prime'), and his 'psionic peer mentor' from the Elite Academy since last year. "Do you want to know what I heard about what you and her are supposed to do when you become a First Year?"

Trying not to think about some of the stories that he had already heard – and grateful for the ever-present inhaler of 'flush' in his pocket, which he was using during his home visit – David Allen grunted off an unintelligible reply.  
_  
Julia smiled; she put her head on David Allen's shoulder, and looked up at him with 'puppy-dog eyes'. "Don't you __want__ me to tell me things, David Allen?"_

Her smile grew broader as David Allen rolled his eyes. "If I had a pie, I'd hit you with it," he said. "You're annoying."

"Yes, but at least I'm not trying to climb all over you right now," the girl said, swinging her feet innocently back and forth. "Oh, and if that was a lemon meringue pie, you'd better just give it to me. That would be a waste of good pie."

"It's only a waste because you won't share," he shot back. "Just because you never gain weight, no matter how much you eat – climb all over me?"

"Like your groupies," the redhead giggled. "If Leda, or Susannah, or that yucky ol' Sidney Simon was here right now, they'd be trying to go all 'kiss-kiss' all over the place!"

"Sidney's my friend, just like you – and we're both in acrobatics," David Allen pointed out. "You could do that instead of the beauty pageants."

"Nope," Julia said. "I know I'm prettier than all of these other girls – and I like the pageants because all of the tiaras prove it. Let Sidney and those other sticks and losers who are always trying to kiss you say _that__."_

"Who's talking about kissing?" a familiar – and annoying – voice came from the hallway – and before either cadet could rise, a young Tom Sloane came through the door of David Allen's room, a posse of seven or eight kids behind him to act as his 'audience'. "Oh, look – I told you, see? If 'Milky' disappears - just look for 'Pins', and there she is!" So – what's going on in the closet, Pins?"

"Go away, Tommy," David Allen said, and winced at the sound of his voice shifting tone. _Stupid puberty__." This is my room. It's__ private__."_

"Oh, you two want to _be alone,__" Tom snickered, drawing laughs from the others. "Pins and Milky, sitting in the' - hey, what goes with that? 'Closet' doesn't rhyme?"_

An attractive girl about Tom's age with Latin features spoke up. "Well, a' pantry' is like a closet, except you put food in one and clothes in the other…"

Tom's face perked up. "Thanks, Natalia!"

Another boy – this one closer to David Allen's age, and obviously of Mexican descent, put a hand on Tom's shoulder. "You've teased him enough, Tom – and this is his room. Leave him alone in his room."

"I'll do whatever I want, 'Gringo'," Tom said, and Tomas Villicana gave the younger boy a cool look before glancing into the closet and seeing Julia's fists ball up.

"Fine," he conceded, looking past Tom to David Allen and Julia. "I'll go and get some cake."

"Little sissy wannabe," Tom taunted, as Villicana left the room. "Oh, yeah – 'Pins and Milky, sitting in _the pantry, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love-"_

Her voice so low that only David Allen could hear her speak, Julia whispered, almost to herself, "You made my friend cry…"

Tom barely saw the red streak that catapulted itself from out of the closet, and he never saw the punch that knocked him out…

David Allen looked back in Judith's direction:

_Judith saw the looks on the faces of Sandi Griffin and Tiffany Blum-Deckler as they tried to have a conversation with a man who, Judith, admitted to herself, was the most attractive man that she had ever seen in her life._

"Good evening, ladies," the man said, with a cultured Southern accent that she knew that she'd remember for a long time to come. "What can I do for you?"

Sandi brushed her hair back with her hand. "We saw you the other day with someone who is really, like, not suited for you? She has a reputation for being really, really unfashionable."

"Yeah," said Tiffany. "Unfashionable."

Judith watched as the man raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he said. "What makes you so sure that this person I was with when you first laid eyes on me is so unsuited for me?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Sandi. "You are obviously a man of taste. Surely you would rather be seen with a woman of similar taste?"

"I see," the man said, looking past the pair as he spoke to someone behind them. "Do you think that I should be seen with a woman of similar tastes, Daria?"

Judith almost burst out laughing as the pair turned around. There, standing before them, dressed in a manner that suited her down to the ground, and which matched the man perfectly, was this world's Daria. In her hands she had a paper bag, and she was giving the two young women a flat, emotionless stare. "Hello, Sandi, Tiffany," she said in her usual flat semi-monotone.

"I take it you know these young ladies?" the man asked.

"You could say that," Daria said. "They were part of a clique that was called 'The Fashion Club' at Lawndale High."

She walked past the pair and sat down next to the man as he cocked an eyebrow. "'Fashion Club'?" he asked.

"They obsessed over fashion and being fashionable," Daria said. "Quinn was a member until they disbanded in my senior year."  
_  
"Intriguing," the man murmured, as he looked at Daria, with suppressed amusement rippling through his voice. "You haven't answered my question, though."_

Daria looked at the man, and then looked at Sandi and Tiffany. "Well, I suppose it is only fair that you should be with someone who has the same tastes as you do," she replied. "What do you look for in a woman?"

"Well," the man responded, "I look for a woman who is articulate, intelligent, educated, has her own views on things and can make me laugh. It also helps if she is good looking."

He looked Sandi and Tiffany over. "Do either of you think you fulfill the criteria?"

"Surely you're not looking for a brain?" Sandi asked.

"It does make matters much easier if she has one and knows how to use it," the man said, as he looked at Daria, taking her right hand in his and gently squeezing it. "One gets pretty tired pretty quickly, talking only about fashion, and idle gossip… no danger of that here."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Daria responded, as she leaned over to kiss the man - a kiss that continued for quite some time and actually impressed Judith (who was cloaked in a second 'one-shot glamour' that made her appear as a Latino girl of average looks) as she sat across from Daria and her 'suitor' – reluctantly, Judith admitted that no other description fit the gentleman better.

Reluctantly, Daria and the man disengaged - and then looked at Sandi and Tiffany; Daria had a faint smirk on her lips while the man simply raised one eyebrow.

Tiffany looked as vacuous as ever, but Sandi Griffin had a look on her face that combined shock with outrage. She looked from Daria, to the man, and back to Daria; her mouth worked, but nothing (or at least, nothing intelligible) came out.

Finally, Sandi stormed off, with Tiffany trailing in her wake.

I think that I'll let this one live, Judith said, as she watched the man with her. If she can hold onto a man like that, she'll cause more pain and suffering among the people around here than I could ever manage, no matter how I killed her. Seeing those two together, every single day – and better yet, if something happens and they do break up, the pain and suffering the bitches here are going to put each other through as they fight to have him notice them – and even better, how they'll act when they realize that none of them are good enough to get him…

Yeah. If nothing else, for that kiss, you get to live. It reminds me of the one real kiss that I got to have with Trent…

Judith's eyes blinked clear as David disengaged from the mind-link. "So?" she asked, looking at her hand before she snatched it away from the cadet's grasp. "What was all that for?"

"I thought that you would understand," David Allen told her. "You have done evil – great evil. You've done things that you will someday have to pay for – but if you want redemption, if you want to be forgiven for what you've done - then you have to stop doing these things. You can make a choice, Judith – you can choose not to hurt anyone else. You've done that once before – at least once before – and you can choose to stop altogether."

Judith growled as David Allen continued on. "You can choose not to do what you've been doing - and you have to start by letting go of all of the hurt you have inside yourself," he said. "Not everyone is going to hate you on sight. Not everyone wants to see you dead. You can stop what's happening. You can stop. You can start onto a new path, and you can start by letting go of the anger you have inside you, and by forgiving yourself."

He stepped closer to her. "Look around you, Judith. What do you see?"

Judith looked around, and turned back to David Allen with derision seeping from her every pore.

"I don't care how far inside my head you go," Judith replied, snapping back with all the ferocity of someone feeling the blade cutting too close to the truth. "Before you try preaching all of this, why don't you try following your own advice? Despite what a bleeding-heart – _empath_ - like you may choose to believe about me or what I am - _I made my own choices._ You were only a week old when those people died – and by the way, only two of them died, not all four, in case you didn't notice - and you're carrying that around like a modern-day Atlas."

She stepped up to him, totally unafraid. "Nobody told me that I'd get to play a role in the origin story of 'Captain Save-A-Ho', trying to rescue a 'soiled dove' from the darkness," she scoffed. "Before you start trying to get other people to change – why don't you start by forgiving _yourself_, and letting someone into your own life? What makes you think that you're so much better – or better off - than me? What makes you think you're any different than me, anyway? _Do you even have any remote idea why your precious __Alliance__ was created in the first place?" _

David Allen actually flinched as Judith looked him directly in the eye and bellowed, "_Before you try to tell anybody how to be a better person - why don't you go tell that redhead how much you actually care about her, go off somewhere and just be a normal guy for a day or two before __all you ever can be__ is an army robot that only knows how to take orders and live for everyone else?"_

Both Judith and David Allen stepped back, slightly confused by what had just been said. "Did I just give you good advice?" the young woman said, taking several steps further from him.

As soon as the words came from Judith's mouth, David Allen heard a pair of voices clearly in his mind's eye:

**/Third Eagle to War Chief. I'm in the room. The Prime's clear of the kill-zone. \\**

#War Chief to Frost King – the Prime is clear. Request instructions.#

A brief pause. **#Confirmed. Eagle - pull Prime clear. I'll take her.#**

[Damnit, people, stand down-!]

Without thinking, David looked in Judith's direction; his telekinetic power went flex-.

Judith flew, screaming, off to one side just as several tightly-focused pulses of super-heated plasma seared through the air – but she went careening into the wall at the back of the stage as the green bolts detonated on contact with the floor and several seats, the concussion of the blasts also sending burning shrapnel flying across the area!

**#What the hell did you just do, Prime?#** a voice stabbed into his head. **#Eagle – fry that bitch!#**

David Allen had barely begun to turn when a figure in tactical body armor appeared out of nowhere in the center aisle! He threw up his shields to protect his eyes as a blinding stream of lightning exploded from the figure's hands-

-Lightning that exploded all around and over the shield that had formed around Judith's form, now lying on the stage.

"_Don't move or you're dead!"_

Before David Allen could speak, over forty persons appeared in the auditorium – some teleporting, some shifting in through dimensional travel, some appearing in various energy forms before they returned to human form – each of them keeping a respectable distance as they trained their weapons on Judith. "_Put your hands out where we can see them!"_ shouted the figure who had fired the lightning. "_Do it NOW!"_

Twitching in obvious pain from the plasma burns on her right side, Judith turned to face the figure; her eyes brushed across David Allen momentarily before she locked on her assailant. "_G-g-go… __fuck__… yourself."_

David Allen looked around the auditorium, and then turned to Judith. **[Remember this for later, Judith,]** he thought-cast to the girl. **[Look around you. That's why I'm different than you.]**

In the moment before she disappeared in a flack of blue light, David Allen saw Judith hold out her right hand, a smile of triumph on her face. "Oh, no," he said, looking down at his wrist and wincing as he saw that his Mark 31 psi-augmenter was missing. "You light-touched, cat-suited little bitch," he breathed out, as the armored figure walked over, raising the visor on his helmet to reveal that it was Franklin Davers inside, wearing the jet-black uniform of a _Phantom Eagle._ "Enjoy roasting someone with that _Force lightning_ of yours, Davers?

"Well, someone had to save you from the evil Daria Morgendorffer," the handsome Cadet First Class smirked, touching a button on his neck that caused his 'flash-armor' – armor that was created from his own psi-powers and provided more protection than a light tank – to fold away into 'hammerspace'. "Besides, '_Ostrich Day'_ is not too far off - and I want you alive and healthy for the fun."

Amorette Molyneux – the _Phantom Eagles'_ 'War Chief '(the term they used for the commander of the elite cadre) appeared in a flash of pink light as she transitioned out of her energy path-form. "What the hell did you save her for, Prime?" the French-Canadian beauty seethed, shouldering her high-powered plasma rifle as she got right up in David Allen's face. "I had orders to take her out!"

"I had orders to let her get away with what she came for, Molly!" he snapped right back; he had learned long ago that the only way to deal with her was to give back as good as she gave out. "Trust me – you don't want to think about what would have happened if you had actually come close to killing her."

"Fine," she snapped back. "The commandant wants to see you anyway for debriefing – and I heard that your mother's on her way, too."

The look on David Allen's face made Jefferson laugh outright and Amorette's mood instantly soften. "Your mommy's a three-star – that probably means that you'll get your pick of assignments when we graduate in June."

"Not to mention that when she shows up, she'll probably bring you some new underwear and take you out to dinner – and maybe, she'll let you order off the grown folks' menu!" Jefferson guffawed, laughing harder at the expression David Allen gave him. "I saw the way you were looking at our guest's tight little rack – I think we all know that you're a 'big boy', now!"

David Allen flicked him on the head with his forefinger. "Okay, Mayflower – let's see how much you laugh after we play some 'CKC' and you end up in a closet with Mike Bethke or Chi Ling for a few minutes."

Jefferson's laugh cut off immediately, and David Allen realized the auditorium had gotten quiet; he looked around to see that more of the USAES Marine Corps guard detail were now in the auditorium, along with the forty-some figures, who were all _Phantom Eagles_ in tactical armor – and all were standing silently with looks of disbelief on their faces. "Oh, come on!" David Allen exclaimed. It's not as if I don't try to do things with other people!"

"Did your mind-link with 'Catsuit Barbie' fog your brain?" Jefferson snickered. "We all know you, David Allen. It's a minor miracle when you do anything social that doesn't involve you being dragged out kicking and screaming by either someone _Alliance_, your cute little _padawan_ Daniella, or Eowyn dragging you out when you were her _padawan_."

"Well, maybe its time for a bit of a change," the _Esper Prime_ said, nodding more to himself than to the others. "After all – today, I just got a good piece of advice."

David Allen turned to Amorette. "Molly – stay with the Marines and help secure the area. Jefferson - lead on. The Commandant's probably got a lot of questions for me."

**END**


	31. The Last Stand of Odell Jones

_The Last Stand of Odell Jones___

A '_Tale of the Ringbearers__', by Brother Grimace_

(NOTE: This fic takes place inside the '_Judith Strikes__!' shared-world series.)_

_When the wearer of a __Defender Ring__ dies, the Ring has several options. It may choose to seek out a being worthy to wear it, or it may simply return to it's sire – the Ringbearer who fashioned it from his or her own Ring – who will then find a worthy recipient, as he or she did before. Some Rings have suffered the cruel fate of being corrupted and twisted into __Vengeance Rings__; their eventual fate is to be destroyed completely, robbed of the endowments that make the Defender Rings all but eternal. (There may be hope, however, for at least one Vengeance Ring was returned to its original state, becoming a Defender Ring as its once-Ringwraith wearer became a part of the Corps of Ringbearers.)_

There are, however, some Rings that have a greater destiny. In the center of the city-size Headquarters of the Ringbearers on Nova Valdris (taking up the entirety of what, on other Earths, would be Manhattan Island) is the _Chapel__ – a memorial and final resting place for those who have served._

At the center of the Chapel is a huge, round table made from pure white marble. This is known simply as _The Memorial__ – and the Rings of the greatest of all Ringbearers lie there, allowed to retain, for all eternity, the residual psionic resonance of their former wearers as tribute and testimony to their great acts of valor and sacrifice._

In all the time that the Corps of Ringbearers has existed, of all the untold numbers who have become Ringbearers, only sixteen have acted in a manner that merited the singular honor of their Ring resting upon _The Memorial__._

-from the information packet on _The Chapel__, given to all novice Ringbearers at the beginning of their training_

"_I've always known the risks that come with a Starfleet uniform. If I am to die in one, I'd like my death to count for something."_

-Tasha Yar, from _Star Trek: The Next Generation__ – '__Yesterday's Enterprise__'_

_I __will__ complete my mission._

The fastest vessels - and some of the most advanced, not to mention expensive – that we have in the Ringbearer fleet are the slipstream vessels.

I'm not a big tech guy – I tell folks that because I came from West Virginia, but really, because I liked music and growing things more than test tubes and computers - but I have the general idea of how they work. They generate areas of change in space-time – the fabric of the universe, some of the guys say – to either make fields that surround the ship and 'lift' it just outside of space-time into another dimension that they actually call the 'slipstream', and get from place to place in a real hurry. That's what we call a 'jump'. It's the fast way, and the way we do it when we're in a rush. Also, because we use the Rings to power the navigational helms, the vessels are unbelievably accurate in where we come out, not to mention having unusually high maneuverability – you could theoretically jump from the moon to a drive-through window of a Cluster Burger in Manhattan, go through and place your order, get your stuff, and be eating French fries before you arrive in orbit around Pandora. (Just kidding. Well, about Pandora. Everyone knows the Na'vi are forest green.)

When you want to move fast but stay in normal space, you simply generate the fields but don't open the 'door' that lifts the ship into slipstream - from what I understand, it's basically more or less what those ships in those _Star Trek_ shows do. Moving faster-than-light in regular space, I mean. God knows that EVERYBODY'S been affected by those shows, too, because they all call it 'going into warp' or stuff like that. Me - as far as I'm concerned, I'm all about the 'point A to Point B', thank you very much. Don't really care how you do it.

The problem with that is that in order to operate the 'slipstream' dimension, you have to have organic minds flying the ship – actually flying the ship. If you don't… well, it can be bad. Also, you're limited to the universe/reality you're currently in.

The other way the slipstream engines work is to create a continuous distortion in the direction it's traveling in (they call it 'folding'), allowing it to enter any known form of hyperspatial travel – this way, a slipstream vessel can enter transwarp or quantum slipstream 'tunnels', enter hyperspace, pass through inter-dimensional voids, ascend to differing planes of reality (did you know that a couple of slipstream vessels entered the Astral Plane about two hundred years ago?) – you name it, one of these ships can possibly get there, if she has the general idea of where to go and how you usually get there.

That way takes longer, uses a hell of a lot more power, and even though you can use computers and autopilots to jump there… well, the flights are not pleasant. Better make sure the structural fields are up to spec, and have nausea meds on hand when you come out. Weird, though – for some reason, feline-like creatures aren't affected by slipstream folds.

If you want to travel to another reality or through time in one of these ships - it's actually easier for someone to open up a portal with one of our Rings for the ship to go through - but keeping a portal open for something this big takes a lot of the Ring's power... better to have that ready for a fight when we get there. It takes about ten minutes to shift the technical whatevers in the engines to go from slipstream jump to fold ability - and that's if you're pushing it. Better to let the engine spin down and the things cool off for about an hour, especially if you've done a fold...

I pick up things I hear - and Melanie Sallis told me a thing or two, as well. (Melanie's one of the people that got pulled out of the D-200 Philadelphia when the Corps did that major test - using the tech _The Agency_ gave us to pull out huge numbers of people from a reality before a world-ending disaster. They took everybody out of all of the American cities that got nuked; the _Agency_ folks took all of the Chinese folks in the cities that got hit over there, and I understand those new guys on the block - the _Foundation_ - _they took an actual city._)

Anyhoo - Melanie's a sweet thing, even if she is all city girl and all college girl, through and through. She's an engineer, hoping to get posted to one of those _Sky Vaults_ - and she likes to talk tech and engines after a good meal of catfish, cole slaw and hushpuppies, along with some of the best damn homemade whisky you'll find in or out of West Virginia!

A girl like that, who likes having me around... yeah, she can talk all she wants.

Oh, yeah – why are the ships so expensive? Because everything aboard that's electronic based is composed of alloys that are at least one-third Salazarium. That's a special that metal allows the alchemical nature of our Rings to operate and co-exist in unison with normal electronic technology. It's a bitch to replicate in mass quantities – even the Ringmasters have a hell of a time doing it, and they paid through the nose for the chemical formula for it from that DELPHI organization so they could do it on their own, rather than buy it from them. That's why, by necessity, they're small vessels – about the size of a Cyclone-class patrol boat (for those Navy fans out there).

So there you have it. Slipstream vessels. They can go damn near anywhere, very fast, and get you exactly where you want to be once you get there. They're used for deep patrol and recon – if you're a Pathfinder and you have a good record, you might spend some time aboard one.

So – why the boring stuff?

Well, you heard about that little bitch _Judith_ – the evil version of Daria Morgendorffer? (I'm sure that you've heard of _her_.) The girl that somehow managed to get into the Ringmaster's Citadel itself and swipe something? Well, six hours ago, she used a temporal portal to send an army of self-detonating clones through the Culver Rho Fleet Yards. We lost three ships and eighteen hundred people – as a diversion for her to steal one of our slipstream vessels.

My name is Odell Jones. I'm a _Warhammer_ – a Ringbearer, trained for military operations.

The word has come down from Command, on Nova Valdris. My team has its orders.

We're gearing up – _and we're going to get that vessel __back__._

–

_How did this happen?_

They hit us with some energy effect – a reverse of our dampening force-pulses – it drained not only most of our ship's power, but got most of our Rings in the same way – Damnit, Williams, you should have known better!

I'm good – so are the others who were down here on the Engineering Deck – Vega thinks the heavy shielding and the emergency dampers (they run off their own energy core, separate from the main system) was what kept our Rings from being sucked dry, damped down - I don't know!

_Rookie mistake, trying to use your Ring to dust those zombies and the vamps with your power that low – Damnit, you guys __KNOW__ that you're supposed to use your TK and your affinity powers in situations like this, that's why you have them! Save your disruption power for one-on-ones and when you have to take a certain one out right away – you were trained better –_

It's _her__. That cloak's a dead giveaway – wait a minute – Oh, hell –_

Derry! Fall back to Engineering and open an emergency portal – on my authority, do a Ring-link and take everyone you can through with you – Melanie, Damnit, woman, I know you're metal-affinity, you can't help out - GO! You're not trained for this – Adams, you stay with her! She's the only engineer still alive here, they'll need her to tell them just what happened, you don't move more than a meter from her until you set foot on Nova Valdris –

Run! RUN! Oh, God, get moving – How did she get back, Archangel's report said that she was permanently displaced, _that's__ what she needed the slipstream vessel for - Seal those bulkheads! Form a skirmishing line right here – we need to give them time to evac – Renald! Glenn! Temple! As soon as that bitch rounds the corner – go for __Starbow__ release! If we're lucky, we can get that Judith bitch, but the one with the wings is the primary target!_

Now! Fire! Everybody _FIRE__! __Throw EVERYTHING__! __Fire__!_

I got the signal too, dumbass – thirty meters – Jesus, how can she move that fast – _STARBOW NOW__ – shields and blow the hull! Burn her!_

At least Melanie got off to warn them-

_Ringbearer Headquarters___

Manhattan Island, Nova Valdris (Location: D-247)

The _Defender Ring_ fell to the tabletop, released from the tiny field of anti-gravity that it hovered in as the last moments of its former wearer's life played out for all to view.

"Damn," the Ringbearer known as _Archangel_ said, his voice holding admiration. "Good ol' boy went out with style."

He looked across the table at the gathering of other Ringbearers, as well as the command personnel and 'gifted humans' in the cavernous _Tactical Information Center_ – the stadium-sized information and operations hub of the Ringbearer headquarters building. "How many people did we lose besides Jones?"

A matronly woman wearing a white suit identical to the one he wore – in the past few years, the outfit had become the _de facto_ uniform for all Ringbearers of Master rank or higher – spoke from the other side of the massive conference table (measuring a good fifty meters across), her French-accented voice amplified by her Ring's vibration-ability as Archangel's was, moments before. "Eleven of the Ringbearers attached to the task force were mental specialists, focused upon the psionic endowments and abilities the Ring confers. Six survived the initial contact with the forces Judith has allied herself with; between them, they managed to keep their fellows focused enough so that they were able to repel the temporal-based attackers that boarded their vessels. Holographics – outer view, please, from the _Clytemnestra._ "

She held her Ring-hand up, and a life-size holographic image filled the area; everyone watched as four impossibly bright beams of yellow light punched through the outer hull of one of the saucer-shaped slipstream vessels. "I always thought that was a goofy shape for a ship," Renee Andrews said to Courtney, standing just beside her; most of the male beings, human and otherwise, who found human forms attractive managed to stop undressing the two with their eyes (or whatever they used for sight) to chuckle at the comment.

The matronly French woman glared at the two for a moment, and then looked upward as everyone took her cue and did likewise. "With Captain Williams dead, Master Ringbearer Jones took command of the _Carthage_. He and his surviving force held their ground long enough for the remaining four Ringbearers aboard the _Carthage_ to follow Jones' orders: to form a Ring-link and pool their power in order to generate an insta-link portal, allowing them to get the surviving civilian personnel and 'gifted humans' off the ship and transport them instantly to our location - _Fleet Command Headquarters._ Once Jones had confirmation they had gone through, he directed three of his troops to link with him in firing a combined solar pulse that would both destroy the vessel – keeping it out of the hands of their opposition – but also doing severe physical damage to their primary combatant."

An impossibly slender man of Asian descent, also dressed in white, spoke up. "Holographics – Section 1146. Could you zoom in, please, and clean up the image?"

A combined gasp of shock and anger rose up as the image of a woman, wearing what appeared to be a gladiatorial costume and possessing large, bat-like wings (one of which appeared to be completely sheared off, along with her left arm just below the shoulder; her left side appeared to be peppered with serious burns as her right wing flapped feebly in the vacuum of space) floated through the debris field of the ship, along with the few remains of several 'reanimates' – a couple of which actually seemed to be alive and functional… and the identifiable remains of several humans.

"Oh, Lord," Archangel said, reflexively feeling for the mini-computer – the one issued to him by _The Agency_ in his new duty as Corps/Agency liaison – as he recognized the creature in the holographic image. "_Apocalypse is __back__."_

"Without question – and if not for Jones, we would be unaware of this returning threat," the Asian man told the assembly. "It appears that the reason that Judith needed the _Alastor_ was to bridge dimensions in order to sweep the known necro-realities, such as D-Zero and DW-2009-A, in order to retrieve Apocalypse. Once Judith disappeared from the _Alastor_ – and we believe she deliberately stranded Apocalypse and the reanimates she brought along to act as a further diversion against pursuit in case she was found while she was aboard – Apocalypse acted to try and kill as many as she could, so she could allow the Shelley, Schumacher and Whedon-class reanimates with her to feed."

"Pardon me – but you said 'further diversion'," an attractive young Latina spoke up. "What does that mean?"

"It means that the little bitch went out with that sweet ride to get the big bitch with wings – and she did it for the express purpose of giving us a nice, stinging case of ongoing kamikaze butt-sex from above that'll keep us busy while she's off grabbing whatever else she needs in this whacked out scavenger hunt through Hell and our backyard that she's on," a voice directly across from the matronly woman spoke loudly. "It means that '_Big-Shells Odell'_ did us all a hell of a favor by chopping on that 'Ben-Hur' bitch and making sure we knew she's out there, cause sure as shit – she'd have done us a turn or two before we knew what the hell was up."

There were slight smiles on most of the faces there as the Ringbearer who only identified himself as '_Tallahassee'_ – and who always wore clothes and a hat that very few people in the Corps would even consider – finished his impromptu speech.

"Exactly," a female voice several feet away spoke up, and all eyes turned to see Danielle Todds. "I knew Odell Jones personally, and almost all of you are aware of his reputation – or that of all of his alternates. Rapists, killers, the worst that humanity has ever offered on every world we've found an Odell Jones – except his. He was truly one-of-a-kind – and he died with honor."

"He was too far beyond the _Threshold_ for revival?" This question came from a human-sized penguin, his natural sounds translated by the Rings – and the master translator unit in the area – as he spoke. "Or they could not find him?"

"Evidence suggests that his shields were breached and his body was incinerated in the incident," the Asian informed the penguin. "There was nothing to revive. As for the others recovered from the remains of the _Carthage_, they were in fact beyond the _Threshold_ for resurrection."

The penguin nodded grimly as he acknowledged the term used to describe the ten-minute point, beyond which neither the Ring or the _Elixir of Life_ could bring a person back to life. "Then, he shall walk at the side of the Great 'Guin."

"Judith's plan has failed, thanks to Master Ringbearer Jones," the matronly French woman spoke up. "We are now aware of Apocalypse's re-appearance, and we are in the process of warning all of our fellows of this situation. We've also deployed the _Sky Vault__ Saleesa_ to seal off the Vegan system, and the Warhammers are scanning for her and her thralls. With her isolated in one area, we can continue to act to stop Judith from completing her plans."

The Ringbearers were silent for several moments after the woman stopped talking. "There will be a memorial service tonight for our fallen brothers and sisters in the _Chapel_ tonight at dusk," the woman said. "All are encouraged to attend."

As the dying rays of sunlight fell across the huge, non-denominational _Chapel_, thousands of Ringbearers of every species stood quietly and watched as a portal opened at the center of the giant hall.

One by one, five persons four women and a man, stepped through the portal.

_Ringmasters,_ Danielle thought, as she watched the matronly French woman hand a Ring to one of the female Ringmasters, who then turned towards the massive table known as _The Memorial__._ _Good. Odell will finally get what he deserves – the respect that a good man should have, and that he never got because of what all of his counterparts were like._

The five Ringmasters stood around the table silently for several seconds; the female who held Odell's ring held her hand out, so that all could see Odell's _Defender Ring_ as it lay upon her palm as she began to speak.

"_For his resolute and unwavering service in battle; for his determination and his gallant sacrifice to ensure the safety of his fellows in the Corps of Ringbearers and all life everywhere by acting decisively to stop the threat known as Apocalypse, and in warning us of the re-emergence of her possible threat to all realities; for his singular devotion to the goals and the ideas of the Corps of Ringbearers – we bestow upon Master Ringbearer Odell Jones our highest honor."_

The permanent stasis field that surrounded the Memorial opened with a roar of sound.

"_Let his Ring rest for all eternity in a place of honor,"_ the Ringmaster said, her voice carrying throughout the hall as Odell's Ring floated from her palm to the white marble surface. "_Let all who come here know only the good that one man did, and hold not the evil of others against his name, or his memory, or the glory he brought upon himself - and all who wear the Ring."_

As the Ringmaster fell silent, Odell's Ring settled into a perfect groove that formed on the surface of the Memorial, barely moments before it touched. As it rested, a perfect image of Odell's face was carved into the table just below his Ring.

_"Let the name of Odell Jones be spoken of with only reverence,"_ the Ringmaster concluded. _"From this time forward, let the legacy of Odell Jones be remembered by the __Corps of Ringbearers__ as one of undisputed honor."_

**END**


	32. Closing Ceremony

**JUDITH STRIKES!  
CLOSING CEREMONY**

_A "Daria" fanfic by Erin Mills  
"Daria" ©2010 MTV Networks_

**"If it ain't real, fake it  
If it ain't yours, take it  
If it's all gone bad, forsake it  
If it ain't broke, break it!"  
-Jim Steinman, "If It Ain't Broke, Break It"**

CREWE NECK GATED COMMUNITY, LAWNDALE, D-1932. MARCH 18, 1982

"DAMMIT!" Jake Morgendoffer screamed into the telephone. "I didn't pull strings, call in favors, and damn near bribe hoboes to impersonate dead fucking citizens to get you elected Sheriff of Lawndale County for you to give me excuses, Thompson! My wife is in hysterics, the media has all but set up a goddamn buffet on my front porch, and, oh yeah, MY SIX MONTH OLD DAUGHTER HAS BEEN FUCKING KIDNAPPED!"

Behind him, Helen Morgendorffer wept loudly into a handkerchief, as Amanda Lane, the Morgendorffer's housekeeper, tried to comfort her.

"It'll be all right, Helen," Amanda was saying. "Vincent, Wind, and Summer are out with the search party and I have Penny looking after Jane and Trent. I'll be here for as long as you need me, and Vincent swears he'll call as soon as he hears anything."

"It's all my fault," Helen sobbed. "I should have taken more maternity leave to look after her, instead of rushing back to the office as soon as I could. I'm a horrible mother."

"No," Amanda said, rubbing Helen's back. "No, you aren't. It's not your fault Daria was kidnapped. Put the blame where it belongs, on the sick and evil bastard who took her away form you."

Helen looked up at Amanda, surpised at the anger on the housekeeper's face. Amanda had always seemed so...etherial. Quiet, peaceful, and yes, a little flaky. The hard edge in her voice was so unexpected.

"Amanda, I..."

Amanda held Helen's hand. "Helen, you are a wonderful mother. If you weren't, you'd be the one on the phone screaming at the sheriff and not Jake. We'll find her. And the person who did this is going to pay for it."

-

Wind Lane fought very hard not to throw up. He clambered his way out of the gully at the side of the back country highway, struggling to make it before his dinner decided to make a return appearance. As he reached the road, he swallowed hard, clicked his flashlight on and off to gain the attention of the rest of the search party, and forced himself to call out.

"HEY! HEY EVERYBODY! I-"

His throat closed up and he retched at the side of the road, the cheap burger and fries splattering on the asphalt. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and yelled out again.

"I FOUND HER! SHE'S OVER HERE!"

-

Sheriff Doug Thompson held his hat in his hands as he stood in the living room of the Morgendorffer mansion. Helen Morgendorffer was still sitting on the couch with the housekeeper, while Jake stood behind the mini bar, a large martini in his hand.

"You found her?" Helen cried, her voice filled with hope and terror. "Where is she? Is she all right?"

Thompson cleared his throat. He hated this part of the job.

"Ma'am I-I'm sorry."

Helen's expression crumbled. "No...NOOOOOOO!" She broke down sobbing. Amanda took her in her arms, comforting her, adding her own tears to the distraught mother.

Jake stalked across the living room, jaw clenched. His hand trembling slightly as he gripped the martini glass.

"What happened?" he said quietly, glaring at Thompson.

"They...apparently, they didn't want a ransom. She was in a gully just past the old quarry. She...Jake, I don't think you want to hear this."

"What did they do to my daughter, Doug?" Jake's voice was quiet, calm, and dangerous.

Thompson swallowed hard and resisted the urge to take Jake's martini from him. "She was evicerated, Jake."

Jake's mouth was a hard thin line. "Evicerated?"

"Whoever kidnapped her cut her open and...Shit." Thompson reached into his pocket and wiped his face with a handkerchief. "There's no easy way to say this. They gutted her like a fish, Jake. The M.E. is still going over what's left. And forensics is examining the note."

"Note?" Jake's brow furrowed. "What note?"

"Didn't I mention the note?" Thompson said, knowing full well he hadn't.

"No, Doug, you did not mention the motherfucking note. What was on it?"

"It-it just said 'Relax. I smothered her first.'"

Jake's nostrils flared. He raised the martini glass to his lips, drained it, then hurled the glass agains tthe far wall hard enough for it to shatter. Helen and Amanda let out shrieks of surprised as Jake grabbed the collar of Thompson's coat and pulled him close.

"Now, you listen to me, you fat chairwarming fuck," Jake snarled, his voice coming form deep in his throat. "As of right now, the entire Lawndale P.D. and the Lawndale County Sheriff's Department has exactly one priority: You assholes in blue are going to find the sick, twisted son of a bitch who mutilated my baby girl and you are going to make damn fucking sure they spend the next fifty fucking years in the fucking electric chair!

"I'm not fucking around here, Doug. You guys better dot all the fucking I's and cross all the fucking T's because if you catch this fucker and they get off on some fucking technicality or get shipped off to some nice clean fucking loony bin upstate, I am going to spend every dime I have getting elected County Commissioner just so I can have the unique fucking privilege of castrating you publicly in the press and on the eleven o'fucking clock news! And then, once you've been forced to resign in disgrace, I am going to come over to your house with a rusty pair of goddamn hedge clippers and DO THE FUCKING JOB FOR REAL! HAVE I MADE MYSELF ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY CRYSTAL FUCKING CLEAR, SHERIFF?"

Thompson swallowed and struggled to speak. His throat had gone dry.

"Y-yes, sir, Mr. Morgendorffer."

"Get the fuck out of my house."

After the sheriff had left, Jake's shoulders sagged. He let out a long sigh and turned back to the couch where Helen and Amanda were still sitting.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Amanda." Jake crossed back to the bar and fixed, then downed, another drink. "I'm sorry. I'm being rude. Given the circumstances, would you like a drink?"

"No, that's all right." Amanda said. "And don't worry about what just happened, Jake. Any parent would act the same, given what's happened." She turned to Helen. "Helen, I'm so, so sorry. If you need any help with the arrangements or anything, be sure to let me or Vincent know."

"Th-thank you, Amanda." Helen sniffled. "You've been wonderful through all of this. And tell Vincent and the kids thank you for all their help."

"And if Wind needs anything, counseling or something like that," Jake added, "Let me know. It'll be covered."

"Thank you, Jake." Amanda said. "Should I stay tonight? It wouldn't be any trouble."

"No, that's okay." Helen said, standing up and walking over to Jake. "I-I think Jake and I need some time alone right now, and you should really be with your family."

Jake nodded. "Go on home, Amanda. We'll be...well, not fine, but we'll get through the night. And thank you."

"You're welcome. If you need anything, you know where to reach us. Good night."

"Good night."

-

Despite the efforts of the combined forces of the Lawndale Police Department, the Lawndale County Sheriff's Department and even some later assistance from the FBI, the killer of Daria Morgendorffer was never caught.

Jake and Helen Morgendorffer worked through their grief and a year later had another beautiful baby girl, Quinn Daria. She grew up happy, healthy, and later was enrolled in Fielding Prepatory Academy when she reached high school age. During that time, she caught the attention of a handsome upperclassman named Tom Sloane, who managed to not only date her, but also helped her to achieve unprecidented academic prestige for the school. They are currently dating and making plans for Quinn to attend Bromwell University when she graduates.

Much to Doug Thompson's relief, Jake did not hold him responsible when the case of Daria's death finally went cold and officially marked "unsolved" in the files. He continues to this day as sheriff of Lawndale County.

Amanda Lane was originally given a substantial raise by the Morgendorffers, and later when she expressed an interest in opening her own handicrafts store, Jake and Helen insisted on providing the front money for the business. In return, the store was named "Daria's Attic" with Jake and Helen's blessing. It remains one of the most successful art stores in the Lawndale area, and is ably staffed by Amanda and her daughters Penny and Jane.

Wind Lane, after a year of therapy (paid for by Jake Morgendorffer), joined the Lawndale County Sheriff's Department, driven by a desire to make sure what happened to Daria never happened again. He currently has the the highest arrest record of any deputy in the Department, with the highest percentage of successful convictions of those he arrests. Many say that it's largely due to Wind's efforts that Lawndale County has the lowest crime statistics in the state. His younger brother Trent, inspired by his older brother's example, is currently studying to enroll at the Lawndale Police Academy.

Daria Elizabeth Morgendorffer was buried in a small, brightly lit corner of Caladan Cemetery on a sunny morning shortly after her body was found. What the medical examiner had decided to neglect mentioning to the grieving parents, and indeed had only mentioned as a small note on the autopsy report, was the fact that, while most of Daria's internal organs had been recovered at the site where she had been found, there was one rather disturbing omission.

Daria's liver was nowhere to be found.

-  
**SOMEWHERE IN THE LAWNDALE CLUSTER**

Judith struck the match on her teeth and tossed it onto the gasoline soaked lawn in the backyard of the house. The soaked blades of grass burst into flame and followed the intricate pattern Judith had laid out. The fuel burned quickly and soon the flames died out, leaving the charred image of a circle with a series of intricate loops and whorls burned into the lawn.

Judith nodded in satisfaction and gestured to the cloak, which was hovering nearby. The cloak floated over, spread its folds and disgorged all the items which Judith had painstakingly collected since her raid on the DELPHI and Ringmasters' Wells of Souls. Judith smiled and began systematically placing them in specific places in between the lines inside the circle.

D.D. Morgan's alleged finger bone, the hard drive from Fortress Lawndale High, the compass from the elderly Jane Lane...

Judith sighed as she set the compass in its place. That one hurt. She admitted it. She had met other Darias who were more dangerous and more powerful. The Lloigor scared the living shit out of her. But that Jane...that truly hurt.

Judith took a deep breath and frowned. No matter. Once she was done, nothing was going to be able to stop her. Not DELPHI, not the Ringbearers, not the Agency, not the god damn Foundation.  
Nothing short of God Himself was going to be able to stop her. And He was notorious for being absent during crises like this.

The four gems she'd taken from the world of that sociopathic nutjob Bitch who had shoved the knife through her ankle, the small statuette from the world where she had gotten Jane out of the prostitution racket, the black silk bag containing the sash Ninja Li had sacrificed herself to, the menu from the Good Time Chinese Restaurant in the world where the cloak had gotten its metaphorical ass kicked, the 1849 20-dollar gold piece, Jane's sketches...

A small smile crossed Judith's lips. Now that had been fun. She couldn't believe that the Green Jacketed Snot Nosed Bitch of that world had actually two timed Jane with that Tom guy. The only time Judith had met him...a long time ago...she had thought he was a schmuck. Instead, he was an asshole. No wonder Jane wanted them both dead.

Back to work.

The Gem of Ibis, the alien artifact from that really fucked up future where DeMartino was rampaging as some kind of judge, jury, and school board president, the crystal ball belonging to the blind psychic Bitch that was Mack Dynamite's friend...

_Mmmm...that was fun too. Except for..._

Judith glanced down at the scarred area of her chest where the locket was embedded. This was going to be painful. Painful, but rewarding.

The Black Tear, Adriaan's Eye, the Bitch's spare pair of glasses from that god damn cartoon universe, the journal belonging to another Bitch...and boy was that a weird one. Judith was used to running into alternate Darias. This was the first time her intel had revealed that Judith had an alternate of herself.

_Twins. Fucking freaky._

There were only three items left in the pile. A book, a staff, and a large ornate key. The Black Tome of Alsophocus went in one of the areas of the circle. The Staff of Angela Li Fey in another. She then took the Key to Nowhere and drove it into the remaining space in the pattern.

Judith looked at the cloak. "The other Tome." The cloak rippled and the Tome of T'agobinskem'ace fell onto the grass. Judith picked it up and opened it to the marked page.

She looked over the entry several times, making sure she had all the details correct. When she was satisfied, she reached into the cloak and withdrew the samples she had taken from the Legion Bitch in D-247. She opened the tubes and dumped the water inside onto the circle at the center of the design. She stepped inside that circle and gestured for the cloak to come closer. It glided over. Judith reached inside again and took out a ornately carved, bejeweled dagger.

She knelt down in the circle, set the Tome down and put the dagger on top of it. She looked up at the cloak.

"I don't anticipate anything going wrong. But if it does, you know what to do. And after that, you're free. Understand?"

The hood of the cloak shifted in an approximation of a nod. Judith returned it.

"You know I'm not sentimental about a lot of things," she said, her voice quiet. "But you've been a great help during all the time we've been together. Thank you."

The cloak rippled and slid back away from the circle. Judith closed her eyes, took her glasses off and set them aside. She picked up the dagger, then reached into a compartment on her belt. She pulled out the small plastic tube containing, as the Tome prescribed, "the tender liver of a newborn babe."

She uncapped the tube and slid the liver out onto the ground. She pulled the glove off her left hand, and drew the dagger across her palm. She grit her teeth and clenched the fist, letting her blood drip over the liver. She reached back into the belt and slapped a quickskin patch over the wound, the artificial skin bonding and sealing upon contact.

She then took the dagger in her left hand and opened the Tome with her other hand. She took another deep breath and began to recite the words on the page.

_"Let the Barriers shatter and fall  
And the Worlds begin to Quake  
Let the Gods themselves wail in Torment  
And all Hell's Demons tremble in my Wake_

From the birth of the Ocean's Bounty  
To the light as the last Star dies  
Now comes the End of All Days  
Worldburner, come forth and RISE!"

On "RISE!" Judith thrust the dagger down and pierced the liver. The liver burst open, fluids spewing over the grass. There was a brief pause, then the objects in the circle began glowing with an unearthly red light. The light spread from the items and flowed along the burned lines in the lawn, all converging on the circle where Judith was kneeling.

Judith got to her feet and looked down as the locket embedded in her chest had begun glowing with it's usual blue white flame. But it was burning brighter now, flaring constantly. The red light encircled her, then burst forward in huge wave that engulfed her.

The light flowed into the locket, the inherent dimensional power fighting and redoubling itself as the energy of the circle fought with the energy of the locket. Judith screamed as burning fire coursed through her body and her mind was confronted with countless images of infinite worlds.

The red light swirled into a vortex around her, lifting her into the air. The light flowed into her mouth, choking her, smothering her. The locket flared into a supernova of light and burned out, the silver heart charring and turning black. The light fluctuated, and dimmed becoming a seething mass of dark energy crackling with red lightning. Evil red clouds formed in the sky, swirling around the back yard of the Morgendorffer house. Windows shattered, other houses were destroyed in the hurricane force winds.

And above it all, Judith's screams echoed throughout the dead world.

Abruptly, the energy cut out and the clouds burst into a light rain. Judith landed hard on the grass. Across the ritual circle, every item was charred and burnt. Useless and dead.

Judith didn't move with the exception of a few twitches as the energy from the vortex dissipated. The cloak hovered over in a close approximation of concern for its mistress. A corner of it reached out and touched her shoulder.

Judith's eyes flashed open. They were solid black with the red light glowing around the edges. She levitated up to her feet, leading with her head, undulating like a snake. As soon as she was upright, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists. The black glow formed around her fists with red lightning crackling every so often. She opened her eyes, which were now back to their usual chocolate brown.

She looked down at her fists and smiled as she noticed her vision was completely perfect for the first time since she could remember. "Oh, yes. This works."

She gestured to the cloak, which quickly wrapped itself around her shoulders and fastened around her neck. Judith brushed it with her fingers and smiled.

"Okay, now, let's test out the new model, shall we?"

Judith closed her eyes and concentrated. The black glow formed around her fists and spread until it outlined her body. The cloak began billowing around her and she levitated off the ground. Her eyes flashed open, black again, and she thrust her fists into the sky. A streaming bolt of dark energy, crackling with red lightning flew into the clouds and exploded with a flash of light and a sonic boom.

-

Some years previous in that world's timeline, something happened. No one was quite sure what exactly had occured but everyone agreed on the result.

In two months time, the world was going to come to an end.

And in Lawndale on the same day it was announced, Daria Morgendorffer was given the news that there was an inoperable tumor in her brain which, even with all the precautions that could be taken, would kill her within a year.

She did not appreciate the irony.

-

Judith opened her eyes and smirked.

"So much for the dry run. Now to send a message."

She opened a portal in front of her and channeled the energies within. It would have to be a short message. Those had the best chance of being noticed by the most number of people. Something short, simple, and absolutely terrifying.

After a moment it came to her. She raised her fists and hurled a ball of the dark energy into the portal. It shattered into an uncountable number of pieces once it entered and sent the message spiraling through the multiverse. Once that was done, the portal winked out of existence.

Judith grinned again, and glanced down at the locket embedded in her chest. The charred silver was puslating with the same dark energy, all limitations gone. She could feel the power coursing through her. The endless possibilites.

Possibilities that would never come to pass.

She couldn't resist swirling the cloak around herself as she focused and vanished in the flash of dark energy. Playtime was over. Time to do the real work.

-

The wind blew through the main dining room of the Cafe, scattering menus, appetizers, and entrees. It was quickly followed by a huge bolt of crimson lightning that impacted against the large wall behind the bar, causing the bottles to explode and spew their contents all over the diners and staff.  
Securtiy was called, but once the wall was examined, Tendo, the six armed gorilla maitre'd, called for an expert opinion.

Senior Guide Reiko Tsereba, along with three other junior Guides, sealed off the bar area of the dining room. the junior Guides began taking readings, but Reiko didn't bother. It was quite clear who had sent the message inscribed in the wall.

She opened her Reality Compass, and adjusted the dial to open the Foundation's communications network.

"Get me the Agency."

-

As was soon discovered, countless worlds in the Lawndale Cluster had received the exact same message. On one world it was found in graffitti on the wall of Lawndale High. In another, it appeared on the marquee of a Cluster Burger near Seven Corners. In yet another, a seventeen car pile up formed the message and was widely broadcast on channel 6 news from their skycam.

And on the world designated D-101...

-

"Daria!" Jane Lane cried as her roommate collapsed upon entering their Boston apartment. She leaped off the couch and propped her friend up, kicking the door shut with her foot.

Daria's eyes were open and staring at nothing. Jane called her name a few more times, then lightly slapped her friend's face. Daria blinked then bolted out of Jane's arms.

She scrabbled around on the floor, opened her backpack and pulled out her notebook. She grabbed a pen out of her pocket and began scribbling all over the cover of the notebook. Jane knelt next to her, unsure whether she should do anything. She remembered the conversation they had about eight months ago, when Daria had expressed that she had an ominous feeling that wouldn't go away.

"It's started," Daria muttered, writing the same three words over and over on the notebook. "It's started. People are going to die. People are going to die, and it's all my fault."

"What?" Jane reached out and touched Daria's shoulder. "Daria, you're scaring-"

"NO!" Daria cried, shoving Jane aside. Jane fell back, catching herself on her elbows. Daria went back to scribbling on the notebook, muttering faster and faster.

"..."

Daria's voice went into quiet breathy muttering. Jane crawled back over to her and stayed close, but not touching her friend. Daria kept scribbling for a further two minutes before her eyes suddenly snapped shut and she collapsed on the floor. Jane quickly checked for a pulse and sighed in relief when she found it strong and steady.

After a few moments, Daria opened her eyes and looked at Jane in puzzlement. "Jane? Why am I on the floor?"

"You don't remember?"

"No..."

Jane sighed in concern. "Daria, some strange shit is happening." She quickly outlined what had happened. Daria blinked and reached for the notebook. The two of them stared at the three words that had been repeated in various sizes and with increasing urgency, almost to the point that they were almost illegible.  
But right in the center was one clear phrase, written larger than anywhere else on the cover of the notebook:

_**WORLDS WILL BURN**_

-

**"Can't you hear the choir now?  
Listen to the Chosen Ones sing  
Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?  
In the land of the pigs, the butcher is king!"  
-Jim Steinman, "In the Land of the Pigs, the Butcher is King"**


	33. Coda: Calling the Children Home

JUDITH STRIKES!

CODA

CALLING THE CHILDREN HOME

by Richard Lobinske, Brother Grimace, Charles RB, and NightGoblyn

On the monitor of his scanner, Hypersphere Supervisor Richard watched a reality thread flare to a bright, angry red.

A voice behind him said, "And so it begins."

Richard turned his chair to see a tall Vorlon in an elaborate environmental suit. Richard said, "You know I hate it when you do that."

–

The sound rang out through the _Citadel of the Ringmasters_ - loud, droning and ominous.

It rang out from the Citadel, and could be heard across the land.

It rang out across the world, and all on the Earth that some knew as _D-476_ could hear its sound.

It rang out from the twin spires of _Beacon Terra One_, out across the surface of the world know as Nova Valdris.

On an Earth where a former Ringwraith known as 'Michael' lived, every person in the city of Los Angeles could hear the deep, fear-inducing sound ring out through the night.

On the world where the small, ursine race known as the Effrani lived with a population of fur seals that had emigrated from Earth and the population of Ringbearers who operated bases on a sourthern archipalago, all looked up to the night sky as the sound seemed to pulse out from the huge, shimmering sets of planetary rings known as the Rings of Light.

On a world known only (and in ironic jest) as 'Zerth' (for 'Zombie Earth'), Ian Llwyd and Anastasia Rowe awoke from their massive bed in the former British Monarch's sleeping chambers in Buckingham Palace, both feeling a sudden dread as the sound rang out through the room.

On an Earth where her heart was shattered forever, Danielle Todds stood in front of a burned-out shell of a home, placed by her in a permanent temporal stasis field (something that only she, as the wielder of the only full-power _Defender Ring_ in existence, could accomplish), as she carried out a tradition she had started almost eight decades earlier - to visit the ruins on the day her family had arrived in what was once the City of Lawndale.

As she placed a single pink rose in front of the ruins, the temporal field fell with a roaring of sound... a sound that rang out from the ruins, and filled her with a cold terror.

On many worlds, crowds gathered in wonder and concern as - in every part of the world where the _Silver Circle Foundation_ held a location, the deep, ominous sound rang out across the land.

In their Williamsburg home, Daria Morgendorffer and her husband, Michael Fulton, held hands as they stood outside their home and looked up in the sky - as did many of their neighbors, and so many persons who had stopped their cars in the road next to their home - wondering where the ominous sound was coming from.

Inside their home, the small black cat - Bump - hid beneath a couch and meowed in fear, while her sister, the tortoise-shell cat known as 'Sissy' went to the window where she had first seen her sister and lifted her paws so that she could see out into the distance.

Both Daria and Michael turned, staring in confusion and wonder at the sight of their pet crying out to something - not in fear, but as if she were trying to get the attention of something they could not see.

Pouring out of the front door of _Legion Tower_, the group of super-powered teens known as the _Legion_ could hear the ominous sound thronging out across the surface of the Earth.

Five minutes later, they would discover that the sound was coming from the home of one Mrs. Johanssen - and she was nowhere to be found.

On another Earth, the survivors of the _Daylight Crisis_ - the Legionnaires, and members of the U.S. Marshals and the U.S. Military Command among them, found that the thronging sound was rising from a patch of earth where the home of one Anthony DeMartino had once lived.

Across the continent, in the only surviving American city of Las Vegas, Peter Morgan and the man known only as 'Mr. Veggie' - two members of the organization known as _Arcana_ - looked up from their lunch of fresh salmon to hear the sound, as well.

Aboard the _Sky Vault __Saleesa_, a crowd - average persons, gifted humans and Ringbearers alike - gathered in the giant park where an open-air concert had been underway, all staring wordlessly as the sound rang out from a young, blonde-haired woman known as Courtney.

Later, some would remember seeing her mouth the words _"Yeah. Just another day of being __me__."_

Only the _Ringbearer_ known as _Archangel_ - traveling between dimensions - could not hear the sound.

Throughout all realities, wherever a being stood who wore the _Ring_ - _Defender,_ or _Vengeance_ - the sound could be heard.

It was the sound of the _Cloister Bell._

_It was the sound of The Beginning of The End._

–

Panel 1. Education DeMartino scowls angrily at a very frightened Shaggy - "WORLDS WILL BURN" has been scrawled onto the wall.

DEMARTINO: You were on your LAST WARNING for scrawling, student!

SHAGGY: I didn't do it this time, I SWEAR -

Panel 2. DeMartino guns down Shaggy.

DEMARTINO: Penalty for repeat vandalism is TERMINATION!

DEMARTINO (thought): A HARSH law... but NECESSARY to keep DISCIPLINE!

–

The home, for a home it was, despite being hewn out of the living rock, was a warm and comfortable place. A cheery fire burned in the grate, giving both light and heat to the small, cluttered living room. Jack sat in his armchair with his feet propped up and his heavy iron boots resting nearby, engaged in working a Rubik's Cube. His daughter sat on on the floor nearby, singing quietly as she knitted the song into a new hat for herself.

The girl's singing faltered, and her needles slowed to a stop as she glanced around apprehensively. "What . . . what was that, father?"

The redcap grimaced and slowly rose to his feet. "Bad, that's what it is. Go get my sword."

-

Daria stood on the rooftop, feeling the night wind gust around her as she stared across empty space to the building across the street. Far below, blue and red lights twinkled as police and firefighters did their best to save the people in the tenement.

"Are we gonna help?" Stacy asked quietly.

"We'd just be a distraction to the police," Batgirl said flatly, her voice sounding oddly mechanical as it filtered through her gas mask. She reached down, flipped open a panel on the back of one gauntlet and punched seven buttons.

Her earbud crackled slightly and a sleepy voice said, "Hello?"

"Hi, Jane, this is Daria, Quinn's sister, how are you?" Batgirl said, using the slightly higher-pitched and bubbly 'Daria' voice.

"Asleep."

"Oh, then you haven't seen the news, there's like, this building on fire in Gotham, and, like, people are dying and stuff, and . . . ." Batgirl cut the connection, knowing that Jane Lane was already gone.

"They'll get the help they need," Batgirl said flatly. "Let's start tracking down the people responsible." She turned, her cape flowing around her, and strode away across the rooftop.

Her partner, Red Robin, hesitated a moment longer, looking at the flames pouring out of the building's windows, and the words those flames spelled out in block lettering. _This world isn't gonna burn if I've got anything to say about it,_ she thought resolutely.

-

Jane hurried down the long, marble corridor, waving off the guards and attendants that were trying to honor, announce, or accompany her. With a small push from the Ring she wore, she opened the huge double doors leading into the audience chamber of Her Imminence, the Matriarch of the Church of Infinite Life. The room was vast and at the far end the Matriarch herself, Jane's best friend, was sprawled out on her throne. The room was otherwise empty, and that was something that hadn't happened since the first day it had been put into use.

"I came as fast as I could," Jane said. "What's going . . . _amiga_, you look awful, what's wrong?"

"I heard it," Daria said, her voice a husky whisper. "I heard the cry from the abyss, and I Looked. I Looked again, Jane."

"What . . . what did you see?"

Slowly, Daria tilted her head and opened her eyes; her solid black, reflectionless eyes. Jane gasped and took an involuntary step back.

"It's dying Jane, it's all dying. We tried to save it and we weren't fast enough."

"I'll . . . I'll see what I can do," Jane said, her mind a-whirl.

"It doesn't matter now," Daria said heavily, her eyes slowly closing. "I will continue Looking. If anything changes, I will send you a message."

"O-okay."

"By the power vested in me as Matriarch," Daria intoned, "by the power of my First Ring of Deliverance," her voice hesitated, "as your friend, Jane, I authorise you to do anything. It's all going to burn Jane, we must deliver it."

Jane nodded, turned, and began striding away. Her mind reached out, through the power of her Ring, and touched one of the lesser bearers.

_Scarlett?_

-Yes, M'Lady?-

Get a Gate team ready, I'm going off-reality.

-Yes, M'Lady. Co-ordinates?-

Have my younger sister present, I want to follow the path of that alternate-Mack she tried to convert. These other Ringbearers are going to need us.

-Yes, M'Lady.-

-

"What do you mean there's no security record in the database?" Daria snarled into her cellphone. "My house has been vandalized."

"There's really not a record," Damsel whispered. "I checked."

"That . . . that makes me really uncomfortable," her twin said, as the two girls stared at the three words scorched on the brick wall of the house.


End file.
